Skip to main content

I'm not a pig--really

Did you ever wonder what 10 years worth of dust would look like? I readily admit I'm no domestic diva, but I'm not gross either. My house is not usually a showroom, but for the most part it is generally tidy with not much more than a week's worth of dirt in most places ;) There is one exception to this rule though--the fan on my cathedral ceiling in the living room. For over a year now, I have been mulling over how to clean the 10 years worth of dirt that has built up on a fan that is totally out of reach. With John (my husband) not seeming at all stressed over this allergy-fest inducing item in our house, I have gone so far as to consider purchasing the "Little Giant" ladder that they infomercial on TV or even renting a scaffold to put between the 2 beams going through the living room.

On Monday, with the kids home for Martin Luther King Jr day, I was drifting around the house noticing all sorts of little things that had been bugging me. As I went downstairs from my balcony, I again noticed the ickiness of the ceiling fan that had been bothering me every time I descended to my bottom floor. I finally decided enough was enough, and took my life into my own hands. I went and got my Swiffer duster with extra-long extend-a-handle (I proudly admit I have every version of Swiffer ever made, although not all of them get regular use). I boldly stepped out on one of the beams crossing my living room ceiling (I can easily do this because John has never completed our stairway railing going to the second floor). I held on to the railing post and stretched my arm as far as possible and wa-la! It kind of reached the ceiling fan. I batted around, whacking at the fan, causing most of the dust to rain down on my carpet just from the flurry of activity.

I can now say that although the fan is not spic-and-span, you can't tell it from the naked eye looking from down below. The picture is a little sample of what had to be cleaned off my carpet after the job was done. And I didn't even sneeze!

Comments

Rochelle said…
Hilarious....& I'm glad you're limbs are all intact after that! I had to giggle about your Swiffer comment....it is a guilty pleasure of mine too!

Popular posts from this blog

Little Chic's New Do

I have been bugging Little Chic to cut her waist-length hair for a long time. She did take about 4 inches off it about two months ago, and ever since, has been toying with the idea of something drastic and cool. Today was the day! I love it, but it's a little sad too--seeing how it makes her look all mature and teenager-ish.

"Huncle" Dave

This guy's my uncle. He's 8 years older than me. With my dad being the oldest of 10 kids, my grandma still had kids at home by the time my dad was getting started with life. This guy was my hero when I was growing up--sort of the big brother role, but with a little more novelty than a constant bully and boss hanging around. He certainly did his share of bossing and bullying, but I took it all in stride since I thought he was an incredibly big deal. Since he was the youngest of 10 kids, but older than all the grandkids, he took full advantage and made the best of his position in life. One aspect of him being more 'mature and world-wise' was that he required treatment of proper respect and authority. Thus, I, and my cousins, were expected to boost his ego by calling him by his rightful name "Huncle". This classy moniker had the unique combination of the relationship (uncle) and his self-proclamation of him being a teenage 'hunk'. Since growing up,

Stickin' It Out

I got married today. Well, not exactly today. It was Friday, June 2. But the year was 1989 - 17 years ago. "Amazing", people say. "Good for you", they comment. "You must have picked the right one", the add. Amazing? Yes. Good for me? I'll admit it. But it has nothing to do with picking the right one, really. It's not because I found the perfect boy, and it's certainly not because he found the perfect girl. It might sound a little unromantic, but there never really is a 'right one' floating around out there waiting in the cosmos for the other 'right one' to crash and connect. There may be 'better ones'; there may be 'more easily compatible' or something or other. But the real story is you start becoming the right one the moment you vow that "you do". When I married, I had been 20 for a whole 33 days, we had just completed a 2-year long-distance realtionship and HE was five years older tha