Monday, April 18, 2005
I am not exactly the domestic sort. Or rather, I pick and choose my domesticities. Knitting, okay; sweeping, not so much; baking, definitely; gardening, hardly at all. But this weekend Spouse and I (occasionally, under compulsion, aided by The Young) suddenly ran through the house doing things. He fixed some stuff, finally tacked up the speaker wire, we cleaned the garage, I cleaned the refrigerator and painted the front door and made a massive pot of chili to be frozen for dinners on some other occasion. We did not tackle the garden (which in the last two weeks has suddenly realized that it's spring and there's been a whole hell of a lot of water, and, well, effulged into verdant chaos). Oh, and larger child stood on smaller child's bed and it broke, so that had to be repaired. In spring, the urge to clean up overwhelms even the least cleaning-minded (and that, of course, would be me).