20 June 2012

On Housework

Housework has long been the bane of my life.
Dust bunnies, my nemesis.
I have blogged about it, complained about it, resented it and frequently avoided it.
At times I have attempted to master the art of it, going to strange tea-towel-ironing lengths...
But I could never say I've enjoyed it.

I could spend all day cleaning and shining, polishing and scrubbing, but the next day it would be as if I'd never done a thing.
Because People live in my house; messy humans of all shapes and sizes. Which means that chores never stay done, dishes don't stay washed, clothes don't stay clean... futility has robbed me of any sense of satisfaction.

But I love my house.
I love the height of the ceilings, the shape of the windows, the architraves, the doors. I love its 1920s vintage, its wobbly walls and uneven floor.
Perfect it is not, but beautiful it surely is.

This week has seen me caring for my home in a burst of housewifelyness.
Re-purposing shelves, re-arranging furniture, re-hanging pictures.
Of course, when things get moved, dust is revealed in all its rabid dust-bunny glory.

Somehow I found great satisfaction in wiping and scrubbing, vacuuming and dusting.
Sorting and de-cluttering. Scraping off stickers, turps-ing away pen.

I was Caring for my Home.
Not merely "cleaning".
Not just doing chores. Housework. Drudge.

Caring - taking care of - my Lovely Home. 
Though not High Style, our home is filled with things we have collected together over the years that are  useful and beautiful to us. Priceless art by kids, friends and family. Gifts and heirlooms, keepsakes and memories. Shells, books, pillows and teapots. 
Somehow it all comes together to create a place that reflects who we are.

This is the place where the people I love come to Rest and Play and Eat.
Our castle. Our sanctuary.
I was Caring for it. And in doing so, I was Caring for them.
I've never thought of it like that before.
Somehow it made all the difference.

Other Posts About Home and Housework:

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