Dust 1. earth or other matter in fine, dry particles. 2. a cloud of finely powdered earth or other matter in the air. 3. any finely powdered substance, as sawdust. 4. A pain in Darin’s ass!
What a hideous thing! Dust!
This afternoon, I thoroughly cleaned, reorganized, and refreshed the studio. It is the busiest, most constantly used space in the entire house. I use it, 58 students use it each week, Quintin will use the computer or play the piano, and three dogs, always needing to be near Dad, frequent the various areas of the rug. There is constant activity in this room. And, it is also direct passage to the deck, my second study for writing during the warmer days.
After I finished teaching this evening, I began the hideous ritual of actually dusting. I know mothers of students cringe when they enter the living room which is more of a waiting room during lessons. I simply do not dust as often as I should.
Now, when I lived in my townhouse in Centerville, my study was upstairs. On different days, each week, I would leave a dust rag and can of Pledge on an end table. Unsuspecting, considerate moms would assume I ran out of time while dusting, and finish the task for me while their child was in the lesson. I would descend from the second floor to the heavenly smell of citrus. Some moms would say, “I went ahead and finished your dusting,” while others would not utter a word, remaining a silent saint!
At The Haasienda, I do not pull that oft used trick. I simply do not make dusting a priority. Instead, it tends to become a seasonal cleaning.
Now, the house seems fresh, and clean. The table runners have been washed, and returned to tables and bookcases.
It is 12:50am, and I am winding down from the long, but enjoyable day!