Finally. The sunshine that was supposed to be here on Thursday arrived today. Seems to mean business, too. It’s not wishy-washy like it was yesterday when it only teased us by peeking between gray clouds intermittently.
It’s already 77°. After all the rain we’ve had lately, one can almost hear the grass growing. And oh, is it green? Such a beautiful bright shade of green! Everything looks so fresh and clean.
The month of May is almost gone. Yesterday was my mother’s birthday. She passed away almost seven years ago. I miss her most at this time of year. She loved it. To her, warm, sunny weather meant tearing up the house and cleaning it from stem to stern. As a child, I hated it. So did my father.
On a sunny day like today, when we heard her say, “Oh my, this bright sunshine shows up all the dirt,” we’d look at each other and grimace. We knew what was coming.
For at least two weeks, the whole house would be a maze of boxes and clutter that was almost impossible to get through as my mother painted, cleaned out closets, rearranged kitchen cabinets, scrubbed the inside and outside of the refrigerator and range, cleaned windows, washed and ironed every curtain in the house, shampooed carpets and waxed floors.
When it was all finished, my father and I were exhausted, but Mother was still energetic and oh, so proud of her sparkling clean house.
As a result of my mother’s cleanliness mania, I never “spring clean.” That is to say, my whole house is never torn up at once! I wouldn’t be able to stand it. It’s one room at a time, or nothing. And if I can’t get it all done in one day, forget it. I can’t tolerate the confusion for days on end.
Today, I smile as I think of my mother. She’d almost certainly be saying, “Oh my, this sunshine shows up all the dirt. I’d better get busy!”
Happy Sunny Weekend!