Ideal Conditions

I've noticed over the years that under certain conditions even the most onerous task can be enjoyable.  For instance, when my folks gave me a new car for graduation from college, I must have washed and waxed that baby at least twenty times in the first month!  The scrubbing and polishing were caresses and let's face it, that's not work.  Cooking can be a chore but on a crisp, clear fall day when the trees are hues of red and gold, making chili is pure joy.  Baking can be hot and sweaty work but when it's blowing snow outside, making cinnamon rolls is a comfort and the resulting aromas and tastes, heavenly.  When I was a kid weeding the garden was a form of hell, but now I find that on early mornings when most of the world is still in bed, I enjoy spending time in my lush flower garden pulling weeds to the accompaniment of a birdsong symphony.  The difference between drudgery and enjoyment seems to be a matter of time, conditions, and attitude.

Well, almost.  Today is cleaning day and short of hiring the job out, thre are really no ideal circumstances under which this task becomes a joy, but there are a few items that help me approach the task with less resentment if not enthusiasm.  First, I check the weather forecast before determining when to clean house.  I prefer rainy days like today, dark and gloomy, thunder booming and rain pouring.  Next, I select CDs for background music.  Today I chose Rod Stewart's Every Picture Tells a Story, Reba's Read My Mind, Tim McGraw's All I Want, the Best of the Righteous Brothers, and Jose Feliiano's Light My Fire.  I work best to music with a strong beat attached to strong memories. 

Then comes my standard routine.  Get all cleaning supplies, vacuum cleaner and attachments, dust cloths and rags and start with the master bedroom.  I start there and clean from one end of the house to the other, ending with the kitchen. 

Most importantly (and supported by the previously mentioned items), I adjust my attitude.  I choose to see the items I'm cleaning as my history, memories, and sources of pride.  For example, the tool chest in the bedroom came from West Bend.  My secretary's husband found it for me and refinished it.  Dusting it, I remember her and the good times we had.  The apothecary chest I use for socks, underwear, and other items we bought in Kentucky while on one of our first trips as a married couple.  As I clean it, I think of our love of antiques and how it has evolved over the years.  The seaman's chest in the living room is a more recent acquisition but it represents years of looking for just the right chest to serve as our coffee table.  Then there are the various pictures on the walls.  Each was done by a friend, our son, myself, or are posters representing our travels.  Again, memories to linger over.  And my pots, representing what I feel are the best of my production over the years, each an example of a stage in my development as a potter and reminding me of where I was in life when I made it.  It takes me a while to clean the whole house given this approach but I don't feel pressed to complete the task in a day and there's no reason for guilt if it takes longer.

So as you can see, cleaing house for me is a total experience, a trip down memory lane.  It's a necessity I do once a month now that I'm retired and one I'll give up the moment I win the lottery.  After all, no matter the conditions or the attitude, it's still a chore.