I hate dust. I hate dusting, and then looking around and seeing dust. I've had this dustlust building up for weeks, and today was the day to breech the peace and wage war against the dust.
Room 1: living room.
With the duster, I dusted the ceiling, doors, door frames, curtain rods, and walls. I took the pictures off the walls. It was dusty behind them. I cleaned the pictures outside, and washed the walls with a wash cloth, water and a little soap. Yes, I washed the walls. I took every book off of every bookshelf, and cleaned each book outside. I dusted the bookshelves dry, and with furniture spray. Anything made of a material that could handle it was washed with water. So THERE!
***
I felt like such a winner. The problem was that I kept being interrupted. It was so bad...that Today is Monday. I started writing this on Friday.
My mother called while I was dusting. SubFinder called while I was dusting. Abbie's teacher called while I was dusting (routine stuff - no issues). THE MORMONS KNOCKED WHILE I WAS DUSTING!
I know that religious groups who knock on doors are just trying to convert people. Still....it always makes me feel like they care. I hate to dismiss them without listening politely, before telling them that my decisions were informed and thank them for the thought. This time, though, I was covered in dust, and that made me extra embarrassed. I don't think I was quite decisive sounding, and I suspect they will come back.
On Saturday we had our first ever family haircut day. We all needed one except Abbie, and she decided to join. She got a few inches cut off, and Grant and Josh have short, tidy haircuts. I was the unsuccess. We all know that I'm not the assertive type. Well, when the girl informed me that she had "just added a little mocha" to my usual color (which she appeared to have difficulty reading off of the ticket) I should have said something. But...I didn't know what that meant, and she'd already done it! I didn't want her to have to waste it...or get upset that I didn't like it, and then "accidentally" mess up my hair some other way. I ought to have chanced it, though. My hair is extra dark, she left it on my head for 45 minutes and my scalp still hurts, plus my bangs feel less than soft. Then there is the cut. I didn't notice it the first day, but there is one layer that she did too short and it pokes out like a flag away from my head. She talked a lot, too. A good portion of it was her insisting that I was "going to love it" and she even told me that my roots looked so dark, and that was "why". In my own defence, I must say that I A) Never told her I was trying to dye my hair the color of my roots, and B) Never made a single dis-satisfied noise. Why was she being so defensive?
I am anxious to continue my war against dust. Some dust is already attempting to return to the living room. I have an urge to take everything out of the house, clean like crazy, and then "move" back in. That's how I feel. Of course, the weather is not as suitable today, what with the chilly drizzle and all.
The perfect weather, in short, for Dublin Coddle! Made some for the first time last night (i.e. St. patricks' Day). We ate it with some Sister Schubert rolls and played a game of Scrabble while wearing green. Cookies with green sprinkles for dessert. Not bad, eh?
Since we have spoken, I have read Persuasion by Jane Austen, and have started Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett. I'm also reading Mrs. Dalloway on and off, but it is really the kind to give one a headache. It's a stream of consciousness of every main character, plus every one he or she passes. Yes, really. I'm about halfway through, perhaps.
Next week is Spring Break. I know I am going to my Grandmother's for one day, and spending that night at my mom's. I might also take in the zoo one day, or the Botanical Gardens. I don't know what to cook for Easter.
Hope you are all having the happiest possible Monday. I have to rush off to do a few things before getting the kids and taking them to music lessons.
MUAH!
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