A young girl, in a book that I am reading, uses the phrase “sprung clent” and then explained it like this, when her listeners don’t understand her, “They washed the floor and they dried and polished…” and one of her aunts exclaims, “Oh! they spring cleaned!”
That’s what I’ve started doing and by the time I’m done (probably in time for next spring), I want to be able to say that I have sprung clent. I told the kids that we are starting Operation Deep Clean and they have to help, as they live here too and contribute to the dirt and I refuse to clean it all myself. Unfortunately, Anders left today for China…JUST TO GET OUT OF HELPING.
Kidding. He’s on a business trip. But, it’s for FOUR weeks, so I’m pretty sure it was planned JUST TO GET OUT OF HELPING.
Haa! Not really. But he IS the best, most thorough cleaner in the family so it’s too bad. I told the kids I would even pay them for helping when we deep clean a room, because I mean DEEP CLEAN. They don’t get paid for their regular house chores, since they already get allowance for helping with that. This is over and above the call of duty. Anders saw the Excel sheet I put together to keep track of the kids’ input and asked if he could also get paid for his hours and when I said I’d pay him a different way, Karin ran out of the room yelling EW EW EW!
Anyway, I started with our bedroom yesterday and I cleaned the shit out of it. Hahaha, that made me laugh. No actual, literal shit. But OY the dust bunnies were large and fiercesome. I dusted the whole room from top to bottom, moved everything, cleaned everything. It’s amazing how filthy your home suddenly is when the sun comes back and starts shining through the filthy windows and lighting up all the dust everywhere. GAH.
Today, I had other things to do, and regular cleaning, and laundry, but they all got done, plus a walk to the plant nursery and the potting of 18 pansies (I toned it down a bit after last year’s record of 72, though I’m actually not quite done yet) and then I clipped rose bushes and lavender. Still have the huge rose bush in the back to tackle, but it scares me, so I’m psyching myself up for it. Anders mowed the lawn, which I hope means we won’t have to do it again until he gets back. He’s actually coming home for 2 of the weekends in April, in between China and Italy and then in between Italy and …Italy.
Cleaning isn’t exciting to do, and it’s less exciting to read about, I’m sure, but it’s all-consuming so you’re stuck with it.
We also ordered cakes for Martin’s graduation party so the food is all taken care of. I have the invitations ready to print out and plan to get them in the mail during the week. Early maybe, but better that than everyone telling me they can’t come because they already committed to someone else’s kid’s graduation.
Conversation in the grocery store
Liz: *to Martin* Do you need juice? *goes around corner to stand in front of the juice shelf with Martin*
Liz: *starts reading all the labels aloud* There’s pomegranate and apricot, and fläder, and blueberry raspberry. Oh! They have pear! *points*
Martin: *points at his eyes* These aren’t decorative, you know.
Martin and I were having a discussion about cultural appropriation as we entered the grocery store (a continuation of an ongoing discussion we’ve had for quite some time) because I had read an article online earlier that day about white people and dreadlocks. It was an interesting article and the discussion kept us occupied through the produce, bread, juice, milk and cheese. Right as we were leaving the dairy section, I suddenly said to Martin, “is that someone singing??” …we could hear the noise but not exactly what it was. We went around the corner, and there was a lady standing behind a little kiosk, handing out samples of some Mexican nacho-y thingie, dressed in a serape and sombrero with mariachi music playing from a speaker.
Martin and I both boggled at her and then gave each other a look. “Talk about cultural appropriation,” said Martin. And then we giggled all the way to the deli.
I just talked to my mom, and then handed the phone to Karin so she could say hi to her grandmother. A few minutes ago, I overheard her say, in reference to our upcoming summer in the US, that she is bursting with wait. 😀
Me too, kid. Me, too.