The Senior Warden and I recently marveled at how predictable our behavior can be. For example, both she and I rearrange the furniture when we are looking for new perspectives or needing to reunite ourselves with our under-the-couch pets. I also like to clean my house prior to embarking on a journey. That’s a metaphor, you know, and it’s related to the moving of furniture and my struggle for perspective because the dust bunnies can be damned. Unfortunately, my brain isn’t working that way right now.

The way my brain is working right now is that you can go on an actual vacation that leaves you feeling slimed – gooey, not skinny, because that would be “slimmed” and I just don’t care that spell check prefers not to recognize my noun verb; though you might feel slimmed, an adjective verb, if you are surrounded by of the sort of people who starve you. In either case, those are usually called home visits. Did I mention I’m going home? Well, I am and when I return, I want clean floors. I spent an hour in the kitchen on my hands and knees, first with a scrub brush (’cause it’s a hard knock life) then with a rinse mop.

Saltillo tiles really look dirty, I mean hide the dirt don’t they? Upon completion of the kitchen tiles, I did the same in the dining room (they’re going to shine like the top of the Chrysler building!). Hello, kitty.

Shut up! Those are the after photos. The kitten isn’t circling her own poo, that’s the original concrete stain showing through the peeling concrete paint. So… uhm… the moral of the story is you can shower as much as you want, some of the dirt just ain’t never going to wash away.