Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
Pablo Picasso
Maintenance Monday is a cool term I borrowed from my friend Karen. She likes to set Monday aside to do the majority of her household tasks like laundry, paying bills, vacuuming, etc. Personally, I don’t have a particular day scheduled for housework. I do like to wait until my husband is around. This way, I make sure he knows I actually do something around the house, not just play tennis and go out to lunch.
The thing about housework is, it really isn’t anything noticeable. Does anyone ever say, “Oh, wow! You dusted today?” My husband has never said, “Look at that! You washed all the dishes and pots and pans.” No, all those things go unnoticed. The bad part is, I notice all those things.
My tennis drill was cancelled this morning, so I sat in front of the TV with a cup of tea and a guilty conscience. When I have tennis, we drill for an hour with the coach, and then stay and play an hour or so. By the time I get home, well, it’s time for lunch. After lunch, I need to put my feet up and rest after all that exertion. You see where I’m going with this? The day just flies by and I don’t get anything done.
No excuse today. The house has been so darn dusty lately, that I decided to tackle the biggest dust catcher known to man. I have a large 3-tiered shelf in the kitchen where I display my collectible tea pots and antique tea cups. And boy, I have a lot of them. I dreaded the thought of cleaning each and every piece, but the thick dust was driving me crazy.
I was up for the challenge, so I removed every single cup, saucer, and tea pot, carefully washing, rinsing and drying each piece. I dusted, washed and polished the shelf unit. Then, you know how one thing leads to another? I decided to dust the window blinds and floor boards while I was in the mood. It was an all day event, but now I feel good. When you have a clean house and a clean slate, your soul is happy.
No one will ever notice, but I’ll smile every time I pass the clean shelves. Well, at least for a few months, until it’s all dusty and grimly again. Now, I can get some artwork done. My everyday life is dusted from my soul.
Toni Andrukaitis 
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