- Vol. 04
- Chapter 07
My Mam Is Nothing If
not thorough.
As if she is a Victorian reminder on a wall full of telling aphorisms:
What will the neighbours say?
Our home shows us how we treat ourselves.
If she can buff away grey clouds to bring out the blue, drag every daffodil, bluebell crocus out of the earth to flower today, place a spruced up nest for every chaffinch, been and goldfinch, blackbird, dove.
Tidy home is a tidy mind.
All windows opened to "freshen" the wintered home. Windows cleaned outside and in.
She empties every drawer, cupboard, wardrobe, surface, scrubs them clean, spiders scurry off.
It shows you respect yourself.
Washes every emptied item of crockery, cutlery, some unused for years.
My Mam Is Nothing If
burnishes copper ornaments, delicately brushes Capodimonte figures, feather dusts top of doors, skirting boards, dewebs high corners, buffs with Brasso gas fire. Tables and furniture Rosewood or Lavender Pledge, all furniture pushed into centre of rooms better to vacuum. Empties bookshelves, every book cover cleaned. Rolls up lounge rugs and doormats slings them over washing line slaps and beats dust out of them. Strip beds, turn mattresses, air sheets A clean home is a clean soul.
Bleaches bath, sinks. Buffs chrome taps.
fragrances bathroom with Lemon, toilet blue,
defrosts fridge, full milk bottles in a sink of cold water, brushes out emptied garage, Datsun Estate cleaned, vacuumed outside and in.
Patio weeded, grass cut for first time this year, borders weeded, dug over.
My Mam Is Nothing If
Black bags food beyond sell by dates, or out of fashion.
Likewise, you must shine your shoes, pick bits off the clothes, straighten your skirt, tie, tighten your belt.