She began to dust the bedroom with annoyance.
“It is not like I have
nothing better to do. I need to post Annie’s devotional on my website. I need
to work on my Bible studies. Studies…Plural!!! What was I thinking when I signed
up for that second study?”
She picked up several
pairs of shoes and threw them not too gently into the closet. “At least I
can close the door and not
see that messy pile of shoes. Good heavens, I can see everything else in the mirrored
doors. Look at all that dust! No one
would even know that the bedroom furniture is black and not gray.”
She breathed a heavy sigh
as she started to remove all the books and knick knacks off of her nightstand.”
I do love this room though. It is just that it takes me about an hour to clean
it. I just don’t have the time for housework. I so associated with the
calligraphy picture that Aleisha once made for me.”
She remembered the
beloved inscription penned written on her daughter’s gift…
“Dull Women Make Impeccable Housekeepers”
“The girl got that one
right. Me to a T! It is my motto even though I cannot always walk in the wisdom
of that proverb”.
For the hundredth time
she promised herself that she would simplify her bedside table. She put the
Messianic Bible and the book telling how to write a memoir on the bed. “Cannot
eliminate them now, can I?” The phone was placed lovingly on the floor. “I
would probably die if I missed a phone call because I was in the bedroom and
the phone had been removed.”
She wondered why she
even entertained the idea of removing the three tiny cloth Indian dolls or the
four miniature clay pots of various tribal designs. “Those mean so much to me.
I love Native American culture and art.”
She lovingly added them to the little pile growing on the bed that
awaited her dust cloth.
“I love these pictures of my mom and dad at age four in this little frame. Aleisha will want them when I am gone. Geez, now I am thinking about dying! I’m not that old! I really adore this picture of me and my mom when I was two months old. Seems like yesterday.Yeah, right!” She started her dusting chore, and then she noticed the eleven books stacked on the lower shelf waiting for her to start her goal of reading them. She also back and gave a lick and a promise to the front of that shelf. Then she moved the books back to the front of the shelf again.
“I love these pictures of my mom and dad at age four in this little frame. Aleisha will want them when I am gone. Geez, now I am thinking about dying! I’m not that old! I really adore this picture of me and my mom when I was two months old. Seems like yesterday.Yeah, right!” She started her dusting chore, and then she noticed the eleven books stacked on the lower shelf waiting for her to start her goal of reading them. She also back and gave a lick and a promise to the front of that shelf. Then she moved the books back to the front of the shelf again.
Then she picked up the
things that, on non-dusting days, were her treasures…on cleaning days not so
much. She laughed when she noticed the ceramic bird. “When I bought that
figurine I thought it was a little bluebird. The first time I dusted it I
realized it was actually a chicken. I think I would get an F in Observation
Skills 101. Every time I look at it I get a little giggle. It reminds me of my
dad who raised chickens and always called me Chickie.”
“I guess I should adjust
my attitude. I either need to get over loving these bits of memorabilia from my
life or get over having to dust them. I probably need to face the fact that I
am way overbooked.”
Feeling better and a bit
empowered, she went on with her task. Suddenly she heard a noise in the yard.
She knocked on the window and waved to Rafael, the gardener. She loved the
gardener and how beautiful he kept the yard looking.
SIGH!
The battle was on again.
“He has a gardener! Every freaking Tuesday! So not fair!” Her subliminal
involuntarily brought to mind the line of an old song...“I beg your pardon;
I never promised you a rose garden.”
“Stop!’ I ‘yelled’ to my subconscious. “To heck with that!”
I had to admit that
there was a certain satisfaction to keeping a neat and clean place. Especially
an area as personal as my bed stand. “Maybe I need to become a somewhat duller
woman.
I shook myself and instructed myself to “get
a grip.” If he can have a gardener, then I can have a housekeeper.” She picked
up her phone to call her husband.
“Man! The gardener is here! That means that
today is Tuesday! It’is eleven o’clock! Ny writing class starts at one!” I slammed down the phone and ran
down the hall at breakneck speed to my computer. “I wonder if I have enough
time to create my latest literary masterpiece.”
(c) Corinne Mustafa, 10/30/12
(c) Corinne Mustafa, 10/30/12
