Mopping Award

Can you spell S-L-A-C-K-E-R? I'm a bit remiss on blogging entries and I had a request from a follower to add a post (thanks Mom!). So, today I'm reminded of the unenviable task of mopping the kitchen floor (which was recently completed - I should get an award -- a "moppy"?).  I'll start preparing my speech...

Anyhow - did I mention how much I don't enjoy housework? Dusting, vacuuming, cleaning toilets...  It has been nearly four months since our cleaning lady, Donna, was here.  That was one of the expenses that was cut when I lost my job. I appreciate her now more than ever... I would love to reinstate that expense as a worthwhile investment!  $60 every other Thursday is a priceless check to write in my mind!  Although I've kept up on other housekeeping detail (not a stellar effort, but acceptable), I despise mopping the floor.  It's a hard wood surface and covers a large high-traffic area through our entry way, kitchen and dining room. It does get swept at least once a week in an attempt to keep the sand, cat hair and dust bunnies under control. But I've ignored the dirt build up, an outline of a tiny kid footprint, skid marks where the dog has exceeded the speed limit and skidded across the floor with wet paws, and the one that put me over the edge - a mysterious sticky patch where cat hair and sock fuzz has been collecting.  I finally had to admit I needed to do something about the deep down grime. (now where did I put Donna's phone number?).  Sweeping alone, could not buy me time any longer.  It was as if the dust bunnies and dirt particles organized themselves in protest in that sticky spot and demanded attention.

I reluctantly went to the garage and unwedged the old mop from the rafters and rinsed out the bucket. Now I know why Donna brought her own cleaning supplies... The mop is a tired old heap of spaghetti noodles that can no longer organize themselves to twist around the pole for ringing.  I was certain Donna settled on Windex-and-water as an acceptable solution to a streakfree shine.  So I guessed at the ratio of water to Windex and set about scrubbing the protest and catching the new dust bunnies that dared to dance in front of me and settle on the wet surface.  

After about 30 minutes of backbreaking mopping and scrubbing, the agony was over - and the mop water looked like a weak mug of hot cocoa (maybe I should have changed the water mid-cleaning?).

I was proud of myself for making my strategic mopping pattern and not mopping myself into a corner. 

It turns out that the Windex and water selection was not solution as I can see water spots but it is satisfactory to me.  I should be good for another four months with regular sweeping. Hopefully I will be back to work by then and Donna will resume her happy cleaning ways.