Saturday Morning Team Cleans

Don't think this is tidy? I should have taken a "before" shot.

When I was younger, I would be woken up at the ungodly hour of 9:30 in the morning by having our eardrums attacked with the blaring music of Laura Smith.  My brother, sister and I haaaaaaated her music for years afterward (sorry Laura) because it was the tool my parents rouse us for our Saturday morning team clean-ups.  There is nothing more unpleasant than an acoustic and soulful version of "My Boooooonnie lies oooooooooooooooover the ocean...."  at 500 decibels. Nothing.

After we stumbled down the stairs to turn down the tunes, A checklist would be presented for each of us to get done before we enjoying the rest of our weekends.  If we were lucky, we would be able to claim our chores of a master list.  If you got to choose your own, we would fight over (sweeping and washing the stairs was a favorite for some reason). If you weren't quick enough, you'd be stuck with washing the compost bucket or dusting.

Years and years later - the memory of these mornings are still there, but the hatred of the tasks (and the music) has certainly subsided.  I'm in charge now, and cleaning is now almost a therapeutic part of my week.  It also helps that if I really don't want to do something - no one can make me.

Now it feels so good to put together a list or chores, and check them off one by one.  If I have done something that wasn’t on the list – I always put it on afterward so that I have the joy of checking or crossing it off.   After all is said and done – I always feel so satisfied with myself and my surroundings.   I’m pretty sure my breathing and heart rate slow, and I feel instantly lighter and happier. 

This picture captures one of those intensely gratifying moments – the calm after the storm. I had cleaned like  a whirling dervish would, took a break, relaxed and was struck by this pretty sight.  “I live here.”