Photo courtesy of piratekittybitch on Photobucket.
Scrubbing the range of my oven with an S.O.S. Brillo pad, I sulked to myself feeling like Cinderella just dying to go to the Ball if I could just get this cleaning done. I dreamed of wearing a fancy gown long enough to cascade behind me, with sparkling jewels, and a knock-out hairdo. Instead, I was barefoot wearing baggy shorts and a mismatched t-shirt with holes in it. And my hair? Surving a trip through a wind tunnel would have made me look good compared to the doo I was sporting that day.
And then the inevitable happened. I went from cleaning the stove to shining the sink. I pulled out all my storage containers and sorted through them, organizing those I didn't throw away. I sweeped and mopped the pantry and the kitchen floor and wiped the cabinets. I went from one thing to the other. If it was in my line of sight, I cleaned it.
"I hate cleaning" was all I could think. The way I was carrying on you would have swore that I just got up from cleaning the floor with my hair.
Next on the list: running errands with my husband Nick. Getting out of the house, away from the cleaning was a treat even if it meant only going to WalMart. While we were driving my mind was a whirlwind of activity.
"I still have to clean the rabbit's cage, vacuum, do the laundry, scrub the bathroom, and on and on." I really worked myself up into a state of doom and gloom thinking about all of it.
The site of a brick apartment building next to the traffic light we were at brought me back to me senses. It was several stories high, complete with rickety old ladders that I assume were used as a fire escape. Electrical wires leading to each apartment unit cluttered the air. There were just a few very narrow parking spaces circling the complex. The long concrete sidewalk seemed to go no where. And worse of all, there wasn't a blade of grass, a single tree or one of God's furry creatures running around the property.
As one of the tenants came out I wondered how it felt for them to look out their window and see nothing but dingy red bricks. I felt confined as a I realized there were no back doors for them to go out to linger in nature.
Don't get me wrong. Some apartments can be really nice. In fact, some may even be more grand then my comfy little house - think Donald Trump. But this complex was far from it. It really looked like the epitome of doom and gloom.
Here I was complaining about all the wonderful things I have to clean. I have a beautiful house with high ceilings, spacious rooms, a bright kitchen, and full basement to store all the things I have! Our one and three-quarter acre property is carpeted with green grass and we have our own forest of trees that makes the best playground for the wildlife. Squirrels are forever springing across the grass, bunny rabbits lounge under a shaded trees and the ground hog is forever making his trek from his home under an Evergreen tree to the area where I put out treats. He is quite the little snacker!
So what if I have to clean and maintain all this stuff? These things are such blessings. I am so much more fortunate than those in that dingy building they call home. In fact, I am so grateful that I even have a roof over my head. Not everyone is so lucky. I'll try to keep that in mind the next time I pull out my mop as I dance around the kitchen like Cinderella dancing with her Prince Charming.