Home is where the heart is; A man's home is his castle; There's no place like home...you've heard them all. I love my home. It's nothing fancy, just a small farm house where Kenneth and I live comfortably. It's the one place in the world that I can really let my hair down, be me, with no false pretense and no one I have to impress. It's my refuge from the world and from the storm.
Once upon a time, when I was young and innocent, I fell victim to the brainwashing of a society that measured the worth of a woman by how clean she kept her house. I believed that everything had to be spotless - everything had to be polished, dusted, swept, mopped or whatever else I could do to make it sparkle and shine.
Then, one day, it happened. I began to have these forbidden thoughts. What would happen if I didn't get the carpet swept one week? Or, heaven forbid, I didn't get the furniture dusted? What was the worst that could happen...would I be kicked out of housewives of America, or be banned from reading Good Housekeeping? Oh, no!!!
Gradually, over the years, I have managed to reprogram my thinking, and also my cleaning habits. A lot of the change was out of necessity because of health problems, but much of it I contribute to coming to my senses. I no longer feel the need to keep everything spotless. After all, a home should look lived in. It should be a place of comfort and relaxation. I think of it as my free space; free from pressures and judgements; free to be a little messy if I want.
The reality is, the world doesn't end if your house isn't as clean as it could be. Truth is, when you are laid up following back surgery or a broken ankle, dust bunnies can become like pets. When we are lonely, or a little down, we all like warm fuzzies that make us feel better. Some of my warm fuzzies include a warm throw, a good book, fluffy socks, and my dust bunnies. They are my assurance that some things in this world are just more important than a spotless house.
Until next time...that's my view.