I dusted the lampshade…

Five of them, actually.  I dusted the five small shades that sit atop those bulbs that remind me of the ones my mother used to buy to put in the plastic electric “candles” that she put in the window for Christmas.  The entire fixture is hanging by a chain the color of ebony, with an equally dark cord interwoven through the chain’s links.  Our kitchen table is under this light, and it gets turned off and on myriad times during a given day as we eat and clean and dance and cook in the kitchen.

Today, following a good floor scrubbing (“Sing, Sweet Nightingale” anyone?), I noticed these miniature lamp shades and wondered if they could be wiped down in order to remove the dust which had built up on each’s sloped, cone-like contours.  I dampened a paper towel lightly, perched upon a chair to reach, and began wiping.

The shades didn’t magically transform into crisp, clean, cream-colored shades.  But, some of the dust did come off of them (and I have the grey-stained paper towels in my trash can to prove it).

As I had a small amount of clean paper towel after dusting the fifth shade, I walked toward the light switch panel and wiped off marks from multiple fingers…and I switched the light I had just dusted from OFF to ON…and guess what I saw….


And the light was brighter than it had been previously.  Just doing a little dusting could do that?  I was amazed.

Then, I began to think of places in my life that might need a little dusting so they can shine a little brighter…and I decided to blog about my experience so I could ponder along with you, my dear friends.

What parts of your life might need to be cleaned up a bit in order for you to feel illuminated?  What goal(s) will you set today in order to accomplish this feat?  (You are totally up for it! I believe in you!!!!)  Feel free to talk to me in the comment box or on Facebook or Twitter.  I LOVE to hear what you are thinking…!  Sending hugs, as always!

A few thoughts….

Monday’s post brought out a little bit of impromptu fiction…and I feared to post it for sounding sacriligious…or something.  Not sure what my hesitation was.

Still–it’s TUESDAY–and I’ve been thinking about songs, and words, and lines….(and, before I forget, the new iTunes now lets you copy links to songs…and here is the free one this week: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/twinkling-lights-feat.-syd/id583601337 …which I actually really like).

Since December began, I could probably sum up most of my month’s activities in two words–baking and cleaning.  Baking because, well, it’s Christmas!!!! And I did little baking during November (mainly because I was writing a NOVEL for NaNoWriMo)…and, as a good friend once said accurately, baking is my therapy.  And cleaning because, well, my house really needed a good scrubbing (did you notice the mopping story yesterday?–well, that’s because cleaning has been on the brain and in my bones for the last several days) since I spent several hours of last month taking care of sick people and WRITING!!!!! Huzzah!!!! 🙂

So, when I clean, (and sometimes when I bake, too), I often turn on iTunes, or Spotify, or Pandora to enjoy some flavorful music (the real truth is so I can dance) and give me some motivation to keep moving.  On my cleaning spree last week, I recalled some of my favorite one-liners from songs that I love.  Here are a few I jotted down for fun:

“Who knows how long I’ve loved you?”

“I felt so symbolic yesterday.”

“Letters that you never meant to send get lost and thrown away.”

“Worlds without end couldn’t hold her.”

Are any of those familiar to you?  Care to guess?  I’ll post the answers in a few days. 🙂

And, who has been following the free music on iTunes?  You can get free Christmas songs–a new one each Tuesday–if you care to head on over there (see the link above for the new one for this week)…or you could just enjoy Spotify‘s library and make your own Christmas music playlist…or you can add a holiday station on Pandora…or you could be like me and do all three.  Who says you can’t have your cake and eat it, too?!?!?!?! Certainly not my preschooler…he’s been asking for cake again…and we all know what that means, right?  More baking.  More baking=more cleaning.  More cleaning=more music.  December is looking promising already!


A Prayer

She dipped her hand into the warm, soapy water, releasing the scent of pine oil throughout her kitchen.  Her hair fell into her face and almost into the water as she retrieved her scrub brush from the bottom of the suds-filled bucket and envisioned the image of a singer with blonde and red streaked hair, with a fashion sense ahead of her time, singing about that very subject.  As the beating of the song’s rhythm fell in time with her own heart, she recalled the harsh words she exchanged only hours ago with the person she loved best and most in the world.

“…Confusion is nothing new…”

Why? she asked herself as the warm water dripped from her cleansing tool onto dark grout lines.

“Sometimes you picture me…I’m walking too far ahead…”

She pushed her frustrations of misunderstanding, of raised voices, of emptiness into the floor as she wondered if an onlooker, should one appear, would compare her to Walt Disney’s Cinderella singing about a nightingale; sadly, her song was not so sweet.

“You’re calling to me…”

Tears mixed with water and Pine-Sol on the already soaked tile, as she knelt in a penitent posture, wishing away pain, willing it to wash away from her soul, to be clean like the floor she was so diligently scrubbing.

“Secrets…stolen…from deep inside…”

Her wrist wiped across her eyes in an attempt to dry them, but her hands were already wet.

“Time after time…time after time…time after…time,” echoed the striped-haired singer through the Bose speaker on the counter, the one she bought herself when she felt he asked more than he should have…but, if she were honest with herself and with him, he had not asked her at all.  She volunteered.  Her main complaint in the earlier yelling fest had been of him not getting her, of taking too much without returning…but even that was gone now.

Her hands returned to moving in circular motions across the squares, creating shapes in soap that really weren’t there…just appearances…impressions.

Maybe I’m the one who should apologize?

The song on her Pandora 80’s station changed, and her mood followed as the tears shed only moments ago soaked deeply into the grout outlines around squares of hard, cold rock.

She pulled out her mop and towel and began the work of rinsing over the soap bubbles (and tears)…a baptism of sorts for the floor, which bore the weight of all their harsh words to one another, their flippant remarks.  She pushed the frayed towel around with her feet, soaking the rising water into fibers of blue cotton.

Have I any hope for redemption now?

(lines of the song used are from “Time After Time” written by Cyndi Lauper and Rob Hyman)