...still cleaning, still!

It's been quite awhile since I last remember a day starting without the prospect of cleaning the house.

I'm not complaining. Well, OK I am. Like I may have mentioned in a post a couple of posts ago, the house is a little (very, very) dusty. To try and illustrate how dusty we're talking about; it's like your favourite fat auntie was completely made of purple fluff, hair, crumbs and other things dusty. She comes to visit your small flat. Standing in a place in your home where she can see into all your rooms, she then explodes; atomizes. The windows are ajar. A breeze blows through the house, spreading the vast amount of er, hmm, pollen laden, gritty, purple fluffy, hairy crumbly dust cloud into every hole and onto every surface. It's like that, but more depressing and less exciting sounding.

Cleaning it is like chasing a naughty child made of, yes of course, dust. So you hoover one place, (s)he moves into another place, leaving a trail as he goes. And as it's also airborne, my lungs now contain an amount of both dust monsters; nan and child.

I'm wheezing as I type.

Well, complaining is now out of the way, the flat is nearly complete, including a reorganisation of er, the storage of er, our precious(?) belongings.

One day soon, I'll get on with living in the living room. dining in the dining room, kitch in the kitchen, etc. But until then, it'll still be cleaning in every room.

Bonjour for now my reader(s)