Bunnies Never Had a Chance
I was totally geared to get the vacuum off of the attic steps and give it my all. About that time Dennis came in and was in his recliner before I could get organized. On to plan “B.” I shut myself in the bathroom and gave that my all. Twisting and bending got the job done. With the laundry in the bathroom, there is no shortage of bunnies. Spit and polish. Our bathroom in no way resembles the age of our home which can be close to 100 years old. It was moved in from the country and I have seen photos of its original place. A total remodel and I would put it up next to any bathroom found in a brand new home.
I checked on Dennis and he was still in never-never-land. Winter cap and coat and a walk was on its way. There isn’t a lot of traffic on the Hammond Highway these days. The wet area around the creek was alive with the song of frogs. With a very red nose I needed a cup of hot coffee. I am spoiled. I like a bit of cream and and even a smaller bit of sugar. One cup a day does it for me.
About this time it was noon. Dennis, having had a good nap, took the remaining of his Subway Tuna sandwich from last night and he headed for the patio porch. I, on the other hand, got my vacuum in place and laid in to the floors. For too many purchases of Swiffer refills, I now have a vacuumed floor that I know has captured that which is the beginning of the nasty bunnies. Once I start, it is “all in.” When I get done, Dennis comes in and puts all the furniture back in place. I will never go back to having carpet on the floors again. Felt pads under anything of any heft . . . can be moved and cleaned under.
Today is Good Friday. In all my years, there has never been a time such as this when there is no church that has not been cleaned multiple times to prepare for Easter Sunday. When our family was responsible for the South Branch Missouri synod church . . . we cleaned after Palm Sunday services, after Good Friday services and then again after Easter Sunday services. Carrie was great at oiling up her cleaning cloth, sitting upon it and scooting down each and every pew. Great memories. Honoring this most Holy of a weekend . . . can happen anywhere especially in our hearts.