Today is clean up day. On Mondays I try to clean and get the house back in some sort of order. I got the vacuum out to start my normal routine and started upstairs today to try something different. Now, the carpet in my house is crazy. I guess it's because it's so cheap. I don't know, but after every room I have to clean out the little compartment that holds all the dirt and fuzz. So I take a grocery sack and empty the bin in it. After I did all the rooms and hall I started on the stairs. The stairs are a back breaker, literally. I have to balance the vacuum while I use the hose attachment to suck up the dirt, lint, and of course the night night strings off of the stairs. When I get to the bottom (only two stairs left) my vacuum goes out. Oh, Man! Now, the vacuum has pulled this little trick on me before. I guess it gets over heated from all the carpet fuzz and just says, "Enough already." So, I abandoned that job and left the vacuum at the bottom of the stairs. Feeling defeated I decided to tackle a little laundry. As I was putting the kids clothes away I admired their beds. Mae and John Russel are in the habit of making up their beds in the morning. (A side effect from having our house on the market for so long--Hey, at least one good thing came out of it.) John Russel's attempt was good, but lacked the neatness that will hopefully come with age. I was proud of the try. Then I noticed Mae's job. It was perfect. The sheet and blanket were pulled up and perfectly tucked in. Her quilt was even on all sides and the pillows perfectly placed. Amazing! Beaming with pride, I remembered what my Memaw would say to me after cleaning up. She would tell me how smart I was. This I always thought was so silly. "It doesn't take intelligence to clean up," I told myself. Now, with Mae's simple act, I get it. No, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to make your bed, but how nice it looks and how pleasing to others. How smart it is to make others comfortable and feel welcome in your personal space. This says so much about a person.
As I finished putting the clothes away, I was shocked by the sudden roaring at the bottom of the stairs. The vacuum sputtered back to life. Soon the downstairs was vacuumed and the kitchen cleaned. I still have more to do. Laundry is calling out to me from the dryer as we speak, eager to be folded. I guess it's never really done. Is it? But, hopefully if someone stops by or perhaps when Rusty gets home, they will enter my personal space and feel welcome. How smart I feel!