Spring Cleaning

We have been busy-bees today. The flat is looking a lot better, less cluttered and the silly little jobs that have been hanging around are done, like changing the fan in the bathroom. It now purrs at you as oppose to screaming, not good in the middle of the night!

TB and I have sat back and watched the rugby (less said about that the better really) and are enjoying the last bottle of white wine we brought back from Australia. Not too sure what we are going to do tonight, probably watch a film on tv. We have not stopped since this morning and are feeling slightly weary now, and still have some more filing to do tomorrow, along with faffing about with the shelves in the lounge.

Still most of it is done and it’s only when you do a deep clean you realise how much you miss whizzing around with the hoover and duster quickly. When my brother and I were growing up, Mum was a stay at home Mum until P went to junior school. She has often said that she had a little routine that she followed, so the kitchen cupboards were cleaned out in rotation, the beds were turned and so on. In this throw-away era, so many people apparently are cash rich time poor, I know that I have less time at home than most. But changing the bed once a week, cleaning the bathroom properly and keeping on top of the washing and ironing is what keeps me sane.

I love snuggling down under a freshly aired duvet in clean, soft, ironed sheets. I like being able to choose what I want to wear the following day, without worrying about dragging the ironing board out at silly o’clock in a panic because nothing is ironed. And I love being able to run a bath and just get in it.

As much as this weekend is going to be hard work for TB and I, the end result will be worth the dishpan hands, standing in the bath on a ladder and sneezing with the dust he’s disturbed from the computer area.

I love spring cleaning, for me it is about reclaiming what is mine, what I miss by getting up so early every day to bring home the bacon. and knowing that by cleaning everything properly, we can get away with vaguely wafting a duster around every so often. Stay at home Mums, I salute you.

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