Sad to say, I've never been much of a housekeeper. I'm not a wonder woman like Beth Wilson who insists on vaccuuming her hardwood floors at midnight when she's 8 1/2 months prego. No, no, that's not me.
But there is a certain level of dirtiness that even I know absolutely requires intervention. That intervention is exactly what happened in my kitchen this past weekend. I spent four hours scrubbing every nook and cranny of that place, from the tile walls, countertops, doorframes, and cabinets. I killed a a few trees with all the papertowels I went through and used an entire bottle of cleaning solution. In fact, there were moments when my head was buried deep inside of a cabinet with just the fumes for company. Now that the skin on my right hand is peeling off, I wonder "Is this the price for cleanliness?"
Even with a few missing brain cells from the chemicals, I was able to make some observations about the life cycle of dirty:
First of all, there is abundadirt. Abundadirt is the kind of dirt that inspires thoughts like, "Has this ever been cleaned in its entire existence?" For example, I discover that the top of my door (yes, there is a door into my kitchen. Not a common decorating feature in America but hey...this is not an American kitchen!) is an unfortunate brown-ish gray color. Maybe the makers just wanted to save some varnish and didn't apply up here, I think (and I hope). But no. Abundadirt strikes again. The positive side of abundadirt is that there is hope for clean. All it takes is some elbow grease and some dangerously overpotent (and most likely unregulated) cleaning solutions.
My second discovery is permadirt. Permadirt is the archnemesis to the housewife. It lurks in corners seen and unseen with such soiled stubborness, such dirty doggedness. Scrub and scrub as you may, there is no victory against permadirt. Permadirt is frustrating. Permadirt is cruel. Permadirt does not relinquish its hold.
I'm pleased to report that abundadirt was much more copious during this cleaning sessions than permadirt. After the galactic battle of Becky vs Dirt, the good guy has prospered and cleanliness reigns. My kitchen makes me smile now everytime I go in there for oatmeal or pb&j.
(Just don't look underneath my cabinets...this is where Permadirt's evil lair is located...)