Sunday, June 17, 2012
Having spent the previous evening out at the picture show, I went to bed after midnight, woefully much later than my usual hour. If I were to tell you when I actually go to bed you might think me an old fuddy-duddy so I will spare you the hour.
To add to my charm, I woke up late. Much later than I usually wake up and I find that while it is nice to sleep in, waking up late throws me off kilter for the rest of the day. And so I did nothing. I did nothing while the mister strapped on his backpack vacuum and whizzed around the tiny casa taking care of the tiny fabric scraps on the floor, crumbs in the sofa and dust on all the odds and ends I have oh-so-artfully displayed about the place. After he vacuumed more than he should have, he cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed the tub and took care of the kitchen including mopping the black and white checkered floor that spills across the kitchen, dining nook and hallway. He cleaned his a-go-go arse off and I did nothing.
So, now you know. The mister cleans and I don't. But there is a reason behind our odd methods. Generally, he vacuums when I am not home as the dust that kicks up get busy with my allergies and well, you've heard that song before. He cleans while I take care of laundry and food stuffs. It all balances out in some way.
this book in the other as the early afternoon sunlight flittered in between the blinds. There was a breeze, warm and possibly scent filled (not that I would know for certain) coupled with random pips and chirps of the hummingbirds that visit the large purple agapanthus outside the window. Occasionally I would hear the whisper of the parasols that hang from the ceiling as they brushed up against one another when an especially lusty breeze burst through (and/or the stomp-stomp-stompiness of our upstairs neighbor got stompier than usual).
It was a Saturday well spent even if I did not get anything done, the mister did.