It must be spring

The return of the sun has, as it always does, shown me where all those places are I don’t notice in the winter that have perhaps become a tad dusty and dirty. OK, more than a tad but less than a barrel full.

I am, at best, a reluctant house cleaner. I’ll do the birds room because I don’t want mice to be attracted to their droppings. But beyond that, well, let’s just say I approach the rest of the house with all the enthusiasm I reserve for dental surgery. But then the sun comes out and I am horrified by what I’ve been able to avoid for the past six months. And lest we forget, I come from a mother who scrubbed the spots out of the linoleum in front of the stove and then complained the linoleum was defective.

So as I sit here typing, everything from my bed is being washed and the winter coverlet that Carm has spit up her meds on every morning for the past three months is on its way to the cleaners. I even bought a new blanket to use while it’s being cleaned because I realized the smell of dog was sorta overwhelming my bedroom but it was still too cold to go to my summer bedspread. Mother would be so proud.

So what do you think? Can I pass the dust on my slats off as a decorative choice or will I be forced to do something about it? Oh wait. If I turn the slats a certain way, you can’t see the dust. Problem solved. Back to Candy Crush.