cleaning

The other day the hubs and I were enjoying a nice day of cleaning. I stuck to vacuuming and doing dishes and dusting and mopping and sweeping and scrubbing and disinfecting and tidying up things on the inside of the house. That's what I know how to do. The hubs went outside and did the manly things that only he knows how to do. For example he made some concoction of water and soap and something else... o, right, bleach and set to scrubbing the north side of our mossy house. Interesting that it was only that side that needed scrubbing, huh? Well, I know the reason why. I also happen to know a little bit of interesting information about that too. If you really want to know, I will share with you... even though you probably won't care. I'll tell myself that you really do to make me feel good about knowing one thing or another. Anyway. Moss only grows on the North side of things. Trees in particular. You know, that's how the underground slaves found their way North when they were running for their freedom? At least that's what my great great great great aunt told me. It's true. They felt for the moss on the side of the trees at night when it was dark because they couldn't see. When they felt the moss they knew they were going in the right direction. I highly doubt the North Star helped them at all.

Anyway... the hubs. he was scrubbing and cleaning and spraying down the soapy concoction and well, just keeping things looking nice outside. Thankfully. I wouldn't even know where to start. If he wanted to switch me spots I would look at him like a crazy caterpillar and say, "Uh-uh. Nope." then, if he persisted he mop and sweep inside as opposed to out, and made me do all the yard work, I would probably just stand there with a little shovel hanging loosely in my hand looking at all of the grass and weeds and vines and trees and flowers and everything really and not know what to do. who knows what it would look like if I were in charge of that. Thank goodness I'm not. In charge of that stuff that is.

So, I go inside. And I start my cleaning and such. It starts out fine and dandy and I don't really mind doing it. not terribly. But then, not too long after I begin the troubles start. The first disaster happened like this: I was vacuuming the living room carpet. The carpet is nice enough and new when we moved into the house. However, it is also the cheapest carpet I've ever seen. Every time I vacuum I have to empty the thingy majober that holds all of the dirt and fuzz and other stuff. The carpet is fuzzy. When we first got here if we walked in one place more than another you could see it. Because there would be a big fat pile of carpet fuzz for us to pick up. cheap. but nice. I don't mind emptying the vacuum, except for the fact that it makes me sneeze like a crazy person. As I'm going about my merry way I begin to sniff an unfamiliar smell, but I know it's the smell of... burning something. And it is coming from some where close to me. Strange that the vacuum is making funny sounds too. I turn it off and sit and stare at it for about an hour. Then I give it another go. I turn it on and start again. The smell returns and only stronger this time. Yes. my vacuum is definitely on fire. Carefully I turn it off and unplug it. After which I am still a little scared to touch the thing, I don't want it to blow up in my hand. Though, I suppose if it blew up in my hand it would also blow up my house. Neither are good options to me. I crouch as close as I dare go to the burning machine and see smoke rising from it. That is Definitely Not a good thing. I know it should not do that. Also, the house now smells like fine. wonderful. super. ...though, on the bright side, at least my house is not on fire. That would be a little bit worse. it's true.

I open the door and shout for the hubs. After which I realize he's right next to me. woops. I ask him, "Do you smell that?! Stick your nose in here and tell me what you smell." The hubs looks at me. "Smell!" I say. He sticks his nose inside the door and sniffs to appease me. "Well, what's it smell like in here?" I ask him.

"Bleach."

"Bleach?! Are you crazy?! Bleach?"

"Well, my hands are drenched in bleach at the moment and I have been inhaling it for the past hour, so pretty much every thing smells like bleach to me."

"Oh." shame. "Are you sure that's all you smell?"

"Yup. Sorry." I hang my head and close the door. He continues on his merry way and I wrap the vacuum cord around the thingy and set it in a place where I hope that if it does explode it won't catch the whole house on fire. I go to get the fire extinguisher, just in case. Wait. We don't have one of those. Note to self: buy fire extinguisher in case the vacuum blows up. Good investment.

Welcome disaster number two. I step outside to ask the hubs if he really didn't smell anything fishy inside. He said, "Well, ya. A little burning smell maybe. But just a tiny whiff." Relieved I wasn't loosing my mind or hallucinating I smiled. All the while the hubs continued to scrub our house. Now. You must know that we have some steps you have to walk up to get in our house. They are nice steps and all. On either side of these steps and small porch area is a great bush. It's very strong and seems invincible. literally. It reminds me of a giant spring. Even snow rests on top of it. I've always wanted to jump into the bushes just for fun. To know what would happen. Well, as the hubs keeps brushing and scrubbing, reaching his arm out farther and farther as he goes. Leaning farther and farther over the bush. And then it happens. In slow motion I watch the hubs fall back into the giant green shrub. The leaves and small branches part to make way for him. There is a giant hole. A look of shock across his face. After a minute or two of taking the situation in I reach out my hand and help pull him up out of the shrub. We fluff up the leaves and branches to their regular self and the hubs brushes the little leaves off his shirt.

It happens to the best of us. It's a shame. While it is a little bit of a disaster, it is also kind of rather amusing and I can't help but giggle a little bit about it. He does too. So, maybe not the biggest disaster of the afternoon.

After returning inside I continue sweeping and mopping. I finish mopping the last room. The laundry room, also where I store the mop and bucket and all the cleaning stuff. After rising the mop out in the tub I decide it would be wise to just hang the mop up right then. Not to wait. Some how in all of the two minutes it took to rinse the mop out I completely forgot about having just mopped the room I was about to enter. Welcome disaster number three. I take one step into the freshly mopped laundry room and whoosh! before I know it I am lying on my side, toe jammed against one door post and one knee banged against the other door post. I hold my head and lay still in silence. I can't move. And my toe is throbbing. I look down and it is bright purple. super. Now my toe is broken. again. lovely. just what I wanted. For the rest of the afternoon I hobble around the house as I continue scrubbing and dusting. Later I set something on my leg and it starts to throb. I realize then and there that is where I hit the door. I look and see the biggest bruise on my knee. Double great. One broken toe and one disjointed knee. How will I ever get through the day? good grief. Nothing more can happen. surely.

Oh... but no. something else does happen. The hubs yells for me to bring him a rag... quickly. It sounds urgent. I limp my way around the house and grab a rag for him. As I open the door to hand it to him I see the biggest disaster of all. The windows. Were open. The hubs had sprayed water straight into our living room. The carpet was sopping the couch was drenched the fancy wooden plastic blinds were dripping water. I screamed for hum to stop, but he didn't hear me for the sound of the hose was too great and if I opened the door right then and there I risked flooding the whole entrance. When the water was off I opened the door and threw the rag in his face. Or not. I just threw it really. I didn't care where it landed. I hobbled as quick as I could with a broken toe and knee and grabbed as many towels and rags as I could find. I spent the remaining ten hours of my day carefully wiping up the blinds and carpet and couches. good gracious.

Thankfully at the end of the day things were mostly dried and the blinds looked sparkling clean. In fact, it was the first time I had even touched the blinds (to clean that is). I probably would have left them till we moved from this house in 90 years. So, I'm sure it's a good thing the water was sprayed into the house. yes. yes. I'm sure of it.

I will have to say one thing. That was probably one of the most eventful cleaning days I have ever had. First the vacuum blows up. Then the hubs falls and breaks his neck in the pretty bushes outside our door. Then I break my little toe and knee (of course they would be on different legs, being on the same would make it too easy for me). Then our house is flooded.

oh my. what a day. what a day.