Spring cleaning

I've said this before, and it's the truth: I was a much better housekeeper when I was working full time and barely had time to do anything other than lesson plans. Still, somehow, I managed to discipline myself to keep the house in neat order.

Now I'm retired, and have all the time in the world,…and my housework doesn't get done on a regular basis.

Oh, I scurry around and do some marathon cleaning just before company arrives, sure. But the twice-a-week, every-Thursday-and-Saturday-without-fail cleaning that I gave my house while being a teacher?

Nope. No way. Too many other things catch my interest, I guess. I finally have time to do the things I've always wanted to do, and cleaning house apparently isn't one of them.

Also, "back in the day," I was religious about starting my spring cleaning immediately after my school's February vacation and making darned sure the cleaning was completed by my school's April vacation. Year after year I followed this routine. I liked to have the spring cleaning completed before May arrived. May can be beautiful in Maine, and I like to spend my time outdoors if possible, not inside cleaning.

This year I started a little half-hearted spring cleaning in March. I wish I'd kept at it, because now Maine's glorious May weather has arrived,

and washing woodwork and windows, rearranging the pantry, taking down curtains and washing them,…simply don't appeal to me.

I'll get 'er done, I guess, one way or another. But I really want to be outside, weeding flower beds, removing last fall's leaves tangled in flower stalks, carrying garden decorations from over the garage to the flower garden.

(This morning I did manage to get this quilt washed and ready to put away. It's the last quilt I made, and it's entirely quilted by hand. I kept it in my quilt cupboard for years; then, this past fall, I asked myself what I'm saving it for?

We might as well enjoy it while we're still able to appreciate the work that goes into a handmade quilt. It certainly kept us warm on those cold nights this past winter.)

Maybe tomorrow I'll wash the bedroom curtains. Or maybe I won't.