Growing up we children had to pull our weight around the house. My sisters and I all had chores that were “assigned” to us and pretty much didn’t change. Except, of course, when the mad winds of change liberated a sister (not a nun, just for clarification) to initiate the trading process. Much like the fur traders of yore, we would start with the bargaining…
Sister 1: “Hey, if you empty the trashes this week, I’ll dust the living room AND vacuum the stairs!”
Sister 2: “WHY?”
(The sister that was being presumed among was usually suspicious…knowing that there could and usually was a REASON why said sister didn’t want to complete the task)
Sister 1: “I’m sick of emptying trashes. I just want to change!”
Sister 2: (warily) “Well…alright. But next week you have to empty the trashes yourself.”
Sister 1: (happily) “I will!”
During the summer, my mother upped the ante on our chore-world and commenced with the leaving of “The List”. The list was always written in neat print (daring us to use the excuse “We couldn’t read it!”) with nursing shorthand (I’m half-way to a nursing degree already), and ALWAYS delineated by name of the sister with check boxes beside each task. With Mom and Dad at work, Mom knew that all we would do is read, watch TV and/or perform various other activities completely devoid of being “productive”. So, the list was set out on the counter or magneted to the fridge to keep us in line throughout the summer hours.
Usually “The List” didn’t take us long so we would, of course, do aforementioned summer-time activities of our choosing and about 1/2 an hour before a returning parent was due to arrive we would hustle through all the tasks to keep us from my mother’s exacting evil eye. As you can imagine, these chores were always really thoroughly executed… 🙂
Today, I embarked on a task I put on my internal List…the dusting of the fan blades. What you will see next is a pictorial reckoning of my dusting adventure. And can I just say…ew. I can’t believe it has come to this…
I suited up for the task in typical MacGuiver style..wetting a towel and tying it around my nose and mouth. This method is good for dusting fan blades in the comfort of your own home AND entering burning buildings. So maybe it was a little overkill, but better to overkill than BE killed, right? Oh, and I might have also been inspired by the movie I saw yesterday “3:10 to Yuma”.
I tried to take a picture that would accurately display for you the severity of the situation. This is the best I could do…
This dusting cloth shows one swipe of my hand across the blade. Now, this doesn’t look too bad, but remember that most of the dust hopped off the blade as a dust bunny, so this only reflects about 2/3 of the dust removed.
I do really like dusting things. At first, it was because mom would let us use a feather duster (c’mon, now…that’s just good fun). Then later it was deemed as a tool that “just pushed the dust around”, which apparently was a bad thing. Even then, I liked dusting, through because it is instant gratification cleaning. Sometimes when I’m cleaning I feel the futility. So I wiped off the counter. So what? A crumb will be there no less than 15 minutes later. But with dusting, I can see the fruit of my labor right away and it tends to stay that way for at least a week. And as a bonus, we also get the lemon-y fresh smell of pledge to keep us company.
Thanks for sticking through my massive tale. I know it was long and seemingly pointless, but wasn’t it FUN?! 🙂