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entropy 1, housecleaning 1, embly 0
Feb. 20th, 2005 04:48 pmDust.
For most of my life, my housekeeping style has been at best 'relaxed'. I tend to clutter rather than anything else, and an hour of "put this stuff where it needs to go" every couple of weeks clears my head. I vacuum, I clean the counters, I scrub the tub, and so on.
But dusting has always seemed to me to be an unnecessary step. Dusting was what snooty butlers wearing white gloves did. Dusting was a concern of frou-frou'd 50s housewives with plastic on the furniture and an obsession with disinfectant. Dusting just wasn't part of my cleaning regimen, and I felt perfectly justified in that. I mean, who dusts? Lemon Pledge fell squarely into the category of polished cutlery, starched napkins, and ironed t-shirts; a portion of cleaning that only Martha Stewart-grade homekeeping used.
Then I came to live with my beloved![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sen_no_ongaku, and our small (ish) qat Oob. And for the first time since I was sixteen, I lived in one home for more than two years. And our housekeeping oscillated till it found a comfortable constant; vacuum, sweep, clean the kitchen, scrub the tub...
...Then recently, I was staring at a portion of our home, and thought, "How did parts of this apartment come to look so abysmally filthy?" And it hit me.
We haven't dusted in a very. long. time.
Part of my soul still whimpers, for I have become that frou-frou'd housewife, and gone out and bought the Lemon Pledge. The rest of my soul is actively going "EWWW! ICK! YUK!" as I have started the long, frightening process of dusting the apartment.
I can hear my mother saying "I told you so" from here.
For most of my life, my housekeeping style has been at best 'relaxed'. I tend to clutter rather than anything else, and an hour of "put this stuff where it needs to go" every couple of weeks clears my head. I vacuum, I clean the counters, I scrub the tub, and so on.
But dusting has always seemed to me to be an unnecessary step. Dusting was what snooty butlers wearing white gloves did. Dusting was a concern of frou-frou'd 50s housewives with plastic on the furniture and an obsession with disinfectant. Dusting just wasn't part of my cleaning regimen, and I felt perfectly justified in that. I mean, who dusts? Lemon Pledge fell squarely into the category of polished cutlery, starched napkins, and ironed t-shirts; a portion of cleaning that only Martha Stewart-grade homekeeping used.
Then I came to live with my beloved
sen_no_ongaku, and our small (ish) qat Oob. And for the first time since I was sixteen, I lived in one home for more than two years. And our housekeeping oscillated till it found a comfortable constant; vacuum, sweep, clean the kitchen, scrub the tub......Then recently, I was staring at a portion of our home, and thought, "How did parts of this apartment come to look so abysmally filthy?" And it hit me.
We haven't dusted in a very. long. time.
Part of my soul still whimpers, for I have become that frou-frou'd housewife, and gone out and bought the Lemon Pledge. The rest of my soul is actively going "EWWW! ICK! YUK!" as I have started the long, frightening process of dusting the apartment.
I can hear my mother saying "I told you so" from here.
