the spring cleaning bug bit a little late this year.
maybe your internal calendar is dawdling, turning each page and season slower than the last, hoping to just stop. and rest.
in truth, the only difference in spring cleaning in the appropriate season and its delayed counterpart is the heat. sweltering, shower-proof heat.
so you carry your mini-fan around the house, plugging it in wherever seems most likely to fight the sweat. closets are not known for their ventilation.
quiet hours pass, and you remember other springs:
top 40 radio blasting in the purple, polka-dotted room, finally cleaning because you were finally grounded . . .
laughing with the first college roommate because the room had reached disaster levels and an all day cleaning bonanza was more necessary than final papers . . .
finding letters, tangled necklaces, t-shirts that smell like the friend you borrowed them from years ago. you feel guilty for trashing them, or re-gifting them to goodwill. you will forget them for sure if they aren’t there to rediscover next spring.
but then you remember. hoarders. and you throw away the tangible, filing the memory in the cozy part of the brain that never gets scrubbed clean.
quiet hours pass, what have you to show?
a check on your list, a trunkful of donations, a more organized closet, and a deep sigh.
next spring, or summer, will see the same sorting. it’s amazing what piles you can build in a year. choose to think of them as tokens instead of junk – and be sure not to skip a year, or momma h will have to ground you.