D Day
My Mother's house was always clean, something cooking, or baking, and every six months the smell of her secret wood conditioner. Yes, I have the recipe now.
I love a clean comfy home. Fresh fruit or flowers, garlic garland hanging in the kitchen window over the sink. A soft cat purring on an antique quilt as I sip a cup of ginger tea. My sketch book on my lap, pages filled with notes, ideas, drawings of future clay projects.
Today I shampooed two large area rugs, wool with lovely floral designs. I wrestled a seven foot couch outside, it's old unclean, filled with odors accumulated from decades of living in a family room. It's past it's prime. I know, don't tell my surgeon. I vaccumed the cat hair covered fluffy chairs, moved them into the den. Moved the 50's bamboo end table between them so there is a place for resting a coffee mug in the morning.
Took down the tacky ruffled curtains, replaced them, it's starting to look like a human being lives here, I thought to myself.
She wept over the old couch. I helped drag it back into the living room. Don't tell my surgeon, he will be angry at me for straining my chest muscles again.
A clean comfy home, doesn't everyone want one?
Guess not. I'm being egocentric again. Is there an app for that?
I love a clean comfy home. Fresh air, flowers and fruit, something baking, ginger tea ....
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