There’s something about the coming of cold weather that makes me want to clean. I know that spring is supposed to be THE time of year for a thorough undertaking of all industrious homemaking, but it’s just not for me. In the spring I just want to relax and enjoy the changing of the season. In the fall… I want to clean.
I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s the unconscious knowledge that I will be spending more time in my place of habitation. Or perhaps it’s simply the change of light that occurs in fall, but I notice dirt, dust, disorganization and general “untidiness” much more at this time of year than in the spring or summer.
Now I’m not really much of a studious “cleaner” in the first place. I may have been in the past, but years of combining full time school with full time work, then two jobs at one time, etc etc, have given me a bit of a lighter hand at housework.
My… that was a diplomatic turn of phrase, wasn’t it? Truth be told, it just means that I leave a lot of dust and dirt to fend for itself in my house. It doesn’t bother me, so I don’t bother it. Kind of like the cat that lives next door. As long as it isn’t behind my car when I’m trying to back out of the driveway, he can pretend that my yard is his territory as much as he likes. I won’t complain.
This “lighter hand” allows me to leave all sorts of jobs unfinished for months. Cleaning the backsplash behind the sink. Scrubbing the cupboard doors. Wiping out the egg trays in the refrigerator. Dusting the “fancy” serving plates on the highest shelf. And anything to do with hauling out large appliances in order to clean behind them. Oh ya… and cleaning the oven and those under-the-burner thing-a-ma-giggies. All of that dirt is left to its own devices, for the most part. Except in the fall.
In the fall, I get a specific kind of itch that can only be scratched by scraping bits of soap and grease scum off the backsplash, or wondering what kind of crumb that is in the egg tray, or seeing my husband’s dresser drawers tidy and expertly folded for the first time in about 8 months. And these itches NEED to be scratched. No amount of chocolate treat (I adore Lowney’s Bridge Mix!), or TV show (Pan Am, So You Think You Can Dance, anything SciFi) or online game (W.O.W.) can measure up to a couple of hours of serious cleaning and re-organizing.
In the spring and summer I can make up all kinds of excuses for not cleaning… most of them being “I’m SO tired”, “I need to take my mind off work” and “just this one more show… I promise”, but in the fall, my excuses go the other way around. “I’m just going to throw this last batch in the washer and put away the dishes, and then I’ll come watch TV with you, k? Oh… and I have to put away the groceries. Well… I should also gather that bag for the goodwill too before I forget. And can you pick up that stuff to patch up the wall in the bathroom? I’m going to spackle that on Sunday. And maybe put in a new mail slot. The old one’s letting the cold in.”
Now, it would be all fine and dandy if it were just me that was affected by these irksome itches. Not so. For, when I begin to itch, I don’t really understand what it is that I’m feeling (it happens SO rarely during the rest of the year). So instead of just cleaning and getting the itch scratched, I start to get irritated at all sorts of things that most of the year go by unnoticed and happily unattended to. That dust and dirt, for example… and my husband’s untidy dresser drawers, and the bathroom cupboard that won’t close because the towels aren’t folded small enough, and the kitchen drawer that never seems to have a good supply of washcloths!
All of these become the “burrs in my coat” as it were, making me so uncomfortable that I start snapping and snarling and searching for what new thing my husband MUST be doing wrong that is making me so mad! Basically, until I finally figure out what it is that is irritating me so much, I become miserable to live with. Only after a breakdown/blow-out/blow-up, whatever you want to call it, do I finally realize that it is Fall again, and only one thing will make me truly happy… a clean house! And there’s only one person who can clean it… me!
(Wow, it sounds like I’m painting myself as a super hero doesn’t it? Who can clean up super-scum with a single swipe, or dust whole shelves with one mighty twirl, or fold laundry at the speed of the egg-timer… FALL-CLEANER can!)
So here we are, in fall again, and at the beginning of my yearly foray into cleanliness. The blow-up/out/in behind me, my husband compensated for being snarled at, and one dresser and one cupboard expertly folded, the FALL-CLEANER cleans on! On, CLEANER, on!
