Monday, June 30, 2014

That Good, Old Deep Clean ....Just Might Kill You

"Just think, we could run away to a place where there was no dusting. And if there was, we could use your sleeves."

Morning Readers,

I hate to break it to you guys, but we're all living under a giant, disgusting pile of dirt.

Yes, even you.

Oh, you're not? Fine. When was the last time you cleaned your ceiling fans? I'll wait...

Still waiting.

Let me just go pull my quiche out of the oven. 

Right, that job sucks so none of us do it. (I was also joking about the quiche because the thought of baking this early in the morning is hilarious to me and I own zero ramekins.)
Granted, there's probably a token person here today who habitually wipes down the blades, but maybe that's because you forgot you could just stop looking up.

This moving thing is wearing on me and we haven't even moved yet. Or bought a new house. Or put this one up for sale. We're on task 8,053 of 11,787, and inching closer to our goal every day, but, unfortunately, that means deep cleaning has become the name of the game.

Deep cleaning. The phrase turns to ash on my tongue. I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Montagues.

Dramatic enough?

Good. The biggest drag of it all was having to tell the kids no pool today and to go stare at each other in another room. As it turns out, fan cleaning takes a certain sort of concentration which required me to learn how to keep my balance while children ran into the broken chair I was standing on, and an immunity to the abject filth that flies off in one's face. Don't worry though, I was using an old rag that trapped almost nothing.

Upon scaling your perch, the thing that hits you first is how long it's been since you cleaned that particular fan.

I did some quick calculation. "Hey, kids. How old are you?"

"Four."

It'd been four years.

Or possibly never.

The next thing I had to process was the density of the dirt as I tried desperately to shove it off each blade. "By Ashton Kutcher's trucker hat, this must be a foot deep. I think I just inhaled it. Is that a snowman? It's a snowman made of dirt. When it falls clockwise on the carpet, it means Winter's coming early. Or that I have to vacuum now."

If you have particularly old fans like we do, the key to a good, deep clean is not losing your balance and clinging to them for dear life.

"Mommy's fine. Thankfully the wiring's still in tact. We're patching holes anyway. As you were."

"Was this one always crooked?"

"That's why the seventies ended. Couldn't make sturdy ceiling fans. Remember that when people ask you if I ever taught you history of any sort."

After you get brave enough to inspect all the nooks and crannies, you realize the frosted glass globes over the light bulbs could also use a wipe down.

But you don't care.
And they're so hot.
And, again, you don't care because you didn't lose your life in the last paragraph.

So what's the point? The point is that you, I and everyone else are living under horrific dunes of dust bunnies, but it's not worth dying over. But maybe it is because no one will buy your house if you don't climb back up there.

Maybe I'll just bribe whoever it is with a quiche.

Until Next Time, Readers!

10 comments:

  1. Honestly, I don't remember ever thinking a thing about "ooh, look how shiny the ceiling fan is!" when walking through a house, pondering if I should buy it. Just sell during summer and leave the puppy on!! lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That actually makes me feel a whole lot better. Maybe my shoddy cleaning job will be just enough to get us by. I just wish the dirt hadn't started growing down to the floor.

      Delete
  2. That's why we bought a house with no ceiling fans. Besides, you've seen just how short I am. No chair, no matter how tall, would ever get me close enough to touch the blades with my fingertips, let alone clean them with a rag. You're a better person (housekeeper) than I am.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hahaha... any time you run into a fan that needs to be cleaned, just call me and I'll run over to boost you.

      Delete
  3. I actually don't have fans anymore so I no longer have to care whether they are dusty but when I did have a fan I cleaned it in the spring to avoid inhaling year old dust when I decided to use it. It really is the worst job ever, though. They should be self cleaning with a self start option when it gets above 75 in a room.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're in the "no fan" club too? How can I get in on this action? Next house, no ceiling fans.

      Delete
  4. I feel your pain, every deep cleaning moment of it. We are cleaning/packing to stage our house for sale and it stinks! Every. Single. Minute. I've moved out half the furniture for staging, filled a storage unit, and now, thanks to you, I'm looking at the ceiling fans!! Thankfully hubby does them once a year so they are TOO bad. (we have to do them before his mother visits or I get a speech about what a bad housekeeper I am.... I am a bad one - I don't need a speech!)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's definitely a big ball of stress. We're boxing up things to go into storage and thinking about moving it all over there is a teensy bit overwhelming. And don't even worry about the fans. Jolie up there says people won't look at them. Hopefully.

      Delete
  5. 1. Hilarious--ash on my tongue! haha. 2. As someone else said, I'm glad I'm too short. 3. I have an irrational fear of ceiling fans thinking they will spin off and decapitate me. 4. I'll raise your dust and add the string from an Elmo balloon that got caught in the fan never to be retrieved and yet it haunts me.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The deep cleaning always leaves me feeling grungy. Which is ironic and uncomfortable. And I second the balloon sentiment. We'd definitely be leaving it for the next owners.

      Delete