clean up jazz

Talk about waking up to melodious diapason. ( check next to that box)

Ah, sigh. oh sigh.

The temperature has started to drop faster than my morals, and I take offense. As if.

So brrr today and all I have to do is hit play to warm up like a tropical heat wave.

mmm .

In a joyless life we must prepare ourselves to absorb whatever little joy life throws at us, and I take immense pleasure in clean ups. Diwali is right around the corner, and I took this opportunity to give my house its weekly ablution, which involves a cleaning so thorough its surface shines like an explosion in a crystal factory.

Cleaned the windows. the door knobs, doors, sinks, floors, kitchen chimney, bathrooms, mirrors, shoe racks and every imaginable nook and cranny.. none of which has ever been left unexplored.

Even cleaned the house slippers which warmly tumble in the drier. 

It feels so fun to walk on the floor wearing a pair of socks. You glide like an olympic figure skating medalist.

The usual problem of course plagues me, what with the over worked washing machine throwing up heaps and bundles of clean clothing, there is an unscalable mountain of laundry that need to be folded and ironed and stacked in cupboards.

These are little bobs of slight irritations that come with the territory. 

I now go to hunt for the darling cat, who shall entertain me with his indifferent licking of his nether regions while I go about with folding.

But I'm here still.. talking, telling.. all that's new with me and all that's old.