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ventaLast night, among other things, I tidied my window sill. Sometimes I wonder how I live with such excitement.
As part of my ongoing room-tidying strategy, I had to tackle the window sill. I realise that, in the general case, window sills aren't usually terrifying places - or indeed places that need much tidying. However, mine has (or, rather, had) about five years aggregate of stuff on it, and had possibly never been dusted in all that time. Yearsworths of dust ceases to be dust and becomes peculiarly solid, grey, unshiftable goo.
However, ornaments have been washed, old and knackered candles have been thrown out, and unspeakable grime removed from the window frame.
The worst problem was Bernard and Newton, the two small, furry bears who have been sitting in the corner of the window. Despite a rather vigorous interlude of shaking and brushing on the front doorstep, they remained resolutely dusty and grubby. In the end, they went in the washing machine last night. I reckoned they'd be OK on a wool wash, but the two fuzzy faces that peered at me out of the washer's porthole looked somewhat unconvinced. I retrieved them this morning, their fur going every-which-way, and combed them reasonably straight again.
I left them sitting on the radiator, looking damply reproachful. This evening they are both looking somewhat more healthy and I think they're the better for the experience. I'm not sure I'm forgiven yet, though.
Oh, and by the way, the chicken in cream sauce I made for tea yesterday does not reheat well in a microwave. Mmmm.... explodey dinner.
As part of my ongoing room-tidying strategy, I had to tackle the window sill. I realise that, in the general case, window sills aren't usually terrifying places - or indeed places that need much tidying. However, mine has (or, rather, had) about five years aggregate of stuff on it, and had possibly never been dusted in all that time. Yearsworths of dust ceases to be dust and becomes peculiarly solid, grey, unshiftable goo.
However, ornaments have been washed, old and knackered candles have been thrown out, and unspeakable grime removed from the window frame.
The worst problem was Bernard and Newton, the two small, furry bears who have been sitting in the corner of the window. Despite a rather vigorous interlude of shaking and brushing on the front doorstep, they remained resolutely dusty and grubby. In the end, they went in the washing machine last night. I reckoned they'd be OK on a wool wash, but the two fuzzy faces that peered at me out of the washer's porthole looked somewhat unconvinced. I retrieved them this morning, their fur going every-which-way, and combed them reasonably straight again.
I left them sitting on the radiator, looking damply reproachful. This evening they are both looking somewhat more healthy and I think they're the better for the experience. I'm not sure I'm forgiven yet, though.
Oh, and by the way, the chicken in cream sauce I made for tea yesterday does not reheat well in a microwave. Mmmm.... explodey dinner.
