cleaning

I am not one for cleaning, but I have been doing it lately. The kitchen, the porch. Oh, the porch started getting cleaned and organized and then it became my center of operations and looks like a farm tool shed now, but nevermind that; it will probably get better. Yesterday and the day before I was upstairs working on the master bedroom and sitting room. Get this: I have been vacuuming by sitting on the floor sticking my wand  – and it is not magic (actually it sucks. Ack! Get off of me, you pun monster.) – under things and into narrow crevices.

I have discovered “vintage dust” but I sucked it up before I realized the potential for an ebay sale. I also found a Bush/Qualye sign stuck behind a bookcase. Okay, this was not a surprise. After the ’92 Clinton event, I pulled the sign out of my lawn in West Chester and kept it; then I moved it up here. Most of the time I don’t think about it, but I can’t truly say I was surprised to pull it out.

Years – decades – ago when I was very little, my grandmother opened up an upstairs window and heaved out a bunch of stuff. My grandfather gathered it up and took it to the tool shed. I think I am fighting a loosing battle.