Foreign Soil

This quarantine has driven me into acts against my nature.

          On my way to retrieve a pair of glasses to work at my computer, I found a trail of dirt in the hallway, which I wiped up with a paper towel. I told myself I must not have banged off my sneakers enough last time I came in. Back through the living room, glasses in hand, my sock feet discovered more crumbles of dirt on the rug. I took out the big vacuum, the one capable of sucking up the dirt in the basement ceiling right through the floor boards.

          Mamie as usual dodged behind various pieces of furniture since vacuuming is usually such a rare occurrence in our house. Funny how times change.

Now that I’m sequestered here, I can’t help but notice things I used to just breeze right by. I haven’t alphabetized the canned goods yet, but it could happen.

When we moved here, I was excited to see that this kitchen had a lid drawer. Except I realized the other day that I could probably have fed a family of four on the crumbs lurking into the corners. How did I manage this when we’ve only lived here for three years?

 

 That drawer and the ones below are now tidy and sporting new shelf paper. 

          My closet has been weeded and sorted, the grungy area above the stove has been de-grunged, and the glass stove top has been shined within an inch of its life.

         

 Have you found yourself cleaning the shower tile with a toothbrush lately?