When I was a kid, I wondered why people had spring cleaning. It seemed much more logical to have a fall cleaning, right before you go hunker down in your cabin for six months.
I think I have the answer: it's because after sitting around in the same sticky, grungy, dog-hair-laden digs for the longest months of the year, you will do ANYTHING, including scrub the kitchen floor with a toothbrush, to get rid of the GUNK.
Yep. I said scrub the kitchen floor with a toothbrush. I can't believe I did that, either. I was just washing up some dishes while I waited for Helen to be ready to host her dog party ("It's not just dogs, mom. It's kitties, too. And camels and zebras. But that's it.") One sink full of soapy water led to another, though, and pretty soon I was getting out the toothbrush.
The pathetic part is (or a pathetic part. I realize there might be more than one) that it actually doesn't look significantly different. A couple of corners are no longer coated in dog hair and dust, but the space below the stove is as frightening as ever. And then there's the big ragged gap where we tore out some crappy cabinets to make room for a fridge after the one that came with the house died. That still looks like crap.
I also vacuumed our bedroom, maybe the second time since we moved back in after the fall's reconstruction. Now, that space does look better. It looks like I feel after I take a shower after coming back from a week of camping. Like: whew.
Mindful, though, of Swistle's comment that it's harder to bear dirt once you've cleaned the house, I stopped at those two rooms. So now when I want a respite from the clutter and kidmania of the rest of the house, I can come back here, to the bedroom, and think ahhh. It's almost as good as cracking open a beer.