We are a tidy people, my husband and I. It’s a matter of habit. We clean the kitchen every night so we don’t wake up to a mess. We make the bed every morning. We pick up after ourselves. We’re organized and clutter free because we get crabby when we can’t find stuff. Everyday house keeping is a cinch. Except for the dust. And windows.
This time of year, when the sun peeks over the mountain it’s devious beams head straight for my front windows, illuminating every smudge and mote. Neighbors on their way to church this morning may have been tsk-tsking when they saw me on my porch, washing windows on Easter Sunday! It’s shocking, I know. But they were very smudgy.
And the dust! I’ve never seen so much dust in a house. Every day I could dust. In winter, when the sun is too far south to light my floors, I can get away with a good swiffering every other day. But this time of year the sun spills in twice a day and twice a day I’m appalled at how much dust has landed. “Close the curtains”, my husband says when I lament. He’s right. Let it be. Twice a day swiffering could be seen as too fastidious. There’s a fine line.