Petrified describes my spring-cleaning efforts

Petrified describes my spring-cleaning efforts
                        

The word petrified best describes my so-called spring-cleaning efforts. This is because other words like nonexistent, unplanned and unorganized actually describe this year’s efforts too. I really wanted to start this project in January so that by the time spring rolled around, I’d be done. This did not happen.

Haphazard is another word for my cleaning efforts — and even mummified.

The temperatures this winter were so erratic — another descriptive cleaning word here — I just kept my light spring jacket, my 50 degrees and above jacket, and my winter coat hanging out on a kitchen chair the entire season. It saved time putting them in the closet and pulling them out again a day or two later.

So a few weeks ago, I did actually look in the closet to see if I could find an extra pair of earmuffs, and when I looked down, it wasn’t good. There was something very thin, long and brown lying there and gracefully swerving along the floor.

I didn’t want to look further, but I did. The tail was attached to a mummified mouse that had happened into a trap that was still in there from a few years ago when I accidentally put a corn-filled draft stopper in the closet, thus creating a little mouse luxury resort.

Joe was not home, so I just closed the door and walked away. Mouse removal is in the husband portion of our marriage agreement. I’m not doing it. Soon Joe was home, and while taking care of the dried-out intruder, he remembered that funny smell from a while ago. I, of course, had checked the potato bin — the usual source of unexpected odors — at the time and found nothing. We hadn’t had a mouse for years, so a dead rodent in the closet was not even on the radar.

But that wasn’t the end of petrified things. We recently took our first overnight trip since COVID-19 began, and while packing, I couldn’t remember when the last trip was that I had taken our little, cloth picnic basket. I always filled it with snacks, bottled water, paper plates and plastic silverware before we left and emptied it out when we returned.

Except for the last trip, whenever that was. I found a number of expired snacks and the worst — a petrified banana. Believe it or not, a small part of the banana skin was still yellow while the rest of it was a thin, brown crust with a stick-like end, some of which was still attached to the cloth. It was gross.

Thanks to Joe and a few go-arounds in the washer, we were able to take the picnic bag with us this year, and I cleaned it out when we returned, I think.

I’m not looking forward to bugs this spring either. We lost a valued four-footed family member last fall who used to take care of things like spiders and bugs in the house. Our replacement kitty, though cute and loyal, doesn’t care much for attacking insects in the house. He really only cares about canned cat food.

The other day, I was getting Kitty his canned cat food when I noticed a large, shriveled-up, black spider on the floor, and it was still moving somewhat. Ugh! My former cat would have made sure that creature was good and dead. Not my newest adoptee, he is stepping around and over the spider — not even noticing it — in giddy anticipation of breakfast.

Is there a cat training school? I have the first student. And as for that still on the to-do list spring cleaning, I’m hoping for no more surprises.


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