I hate to dust — which is why one of my winter goals was to dust all my wood blinds. Embarassing to admit that I lead such a dull life. But there it is. And here am I with only ten days of winter left. No time like the present. Three down, seventeen to go.
In her housekeeping book, Home Comforts, Cheryl Mendelson devotes seven pages to the harmful effects of dust, especially the mites and allergens it harbors. She writes, “As for its effect on your health, the Victorians were right to believe that dust is an irritant to the eyes, nose and lungs; it attracts pests, promotes unpleasant odors, and can transmit infections.” In the next chapter, she devotes another seven pages to its removal.
There is always plenty of dust to be removed. I use a specially designed microfiber cloth for the job –it’s promoted to attract dust like a magnet. If only…. But no. Only part of the dust is captured. The rest I simply dislodge, to fly somersaults through the air.
When the sun is shining, it’s easy to see all the particles floating. Floating, floating, floating, they celebrate their freedom– they have escaped my dust cloth for now. It will take a while for the particles to settle down again. But some things in life are not worth the wait. The dust will keep until our next divine appointment.
I much prefer to live in the land of fairy dust, where anything is possible. According to J.M. Barries’s pen and imagination, a little fairy dust sprinkling would send me rather than the dust particles to flight. Of course, his pen did fly across the page toward a place called Neverland. I live somewhere else — in another time, it was once called the dust bowl.
Here in my real world, house dust doesn’t sparkle like fairy dust. But it does a great job of keeping a girl grounded.