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Wayne Post
  • Anne Palumbo: Why certain jobs should remain ‘For Your Eyes Only’

  • Gentle readers, I have a confession.  



    I am not one of those women who clean on a regular basis.  I straighten things up and do a cursory once-over with my sleeve; but I don’t deep clean.  “What’s the point?” I say to no one.  “It will just get dirty in a day.”

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  • Gentle readers, I have a confession.  
    I am not one of those women who clean on a regular basis.  I straighten things up and do a cursory once-over with my sleeve; but I don’t deep clean.  “What’s the point?” I say to no one.  “It will just get dirty in a day.” 
     
    With two dogs, three cats with digestive problems, and two males who sometimes act like two dogs, what with all the mud and riffraff they drag in, I am usually correct.
    No, I clean for only four reasons:  before I entertain, before houseguests descend, after someone in the family says, “What smells?” and when I can’t tolerate it any longer.
    For the record, it takes months for my toleration to reach a breaking point.  Call me Miss Piggy, but I see that as a true strength, a definite resume-builder.
    A week ago, however, I couldn’t stand the filth any longer and dove headfirst into cleaning with the tenacity of a pit bull.   As good fortune would have it, both guys were away that week.
    Good fortune?  Oh, mama.  Good fortune times one hundred.  I came across stuff that surprised even me.  But because I was on my own – translation: no judgmental eyeballs casting aspersions – I could keep calm and carry on.
    Here’s a good example of something that knocked the starch out of me.   We have a bathroom off the kitchen with an old-fashioned mirrored medicine cabinet.  The cabinet stands empty, however, and so I never open it, ever.  But in my uber-cleaning mode, I opened it – and, whoa! 
    There was a mouse skeleton.   What the heck?  Then I saw the little hole, then I thought back on that funky smell we had endured for weeks last fall, then I thought about all the nosy guests who might have snooped…then I had to pour myself a tumbler of wine.  Aye-yi-yi.
    Okay, here’s another example of something I was thrilled to discover on my own:  refrigerator coils that had more fuzz than a sheep farm.  Holy neglect, I shuddered, it’s a miracle those fire hazards didn’t ignite.  Although I had read about this spring-cleaning ritual – the Vacuuming of the Coils – I never took it seriously.   
    Oh, and here’s another one: evil pantry moths.  Who knew these insipid little buggers had the appetites of linebackers?  And to think I’ve been cooking with what I thought was finely ground flour.  Good thing I only used that sawdust for holiday fruitcakes, right?
    There is a silver lining to this story.  In my quest to tidy up, I have found many items that have been missing for months.  To name a few: my aunt’s lower dentures, a favorite sock, and my sister’s cheese markers.  That they were still in the cheese is “For Your Ears Only.”
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