Saturday, 19 March 2011

I Don't Got Nothing To Say. Except This...

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Ain't Got Nothing To Say.  Except This.
  
Today is the absolute pinacle of achievement.  There are many types of achievement and the one I have got to is probably the best.  I woke as usual, thinking Lordy Lordy who wants feeding? Plodding downstairs in my dressing gown, eyes dark with lack of discipline about going to bed at a reasonable time, I felt overawed by the dreadful state the house was in. After providing a sumptuous breakfast for those staying with me this weekend, a sudden blinding light and a thunder clap heralded the Angel of the Lord who said, "Stop oh you who need a bath and should really have employed a cleaner! Stand up straight and watch this..." and with the trumpets sounding of all of the angels who deal with Artists and Housework, and with a semi clad celestial figure banging a huge angelic gong, I was shown a vision of what today could be. This is the vision I beheld:

Lo, and the Heavens parted and showed unto me, a house with clean floors and not a dustball in sight.  My eyes were dazzled in this vision as the Angel of the Lord turned my head to show me the bin was emptied and fresh bin bags in place where only seconds before, there had been left overs and potato peelings and teabag stains down the wall.  Hark! said a fierce voice, All this will come to pass if you get the hoover out and squirt some Mr Sheen.  I was led in my vision to the bathroom where all the hair left over from Furious Son With A Life To Live had shaved his head and beard, had gone and in its place, gleaming surfaces and beams of blinding sunlight bouncing off the whiter than white bath. The soap, the flannels and the shampoos were placed exactly to cover the burn marks both boys had made as they individually and for different reasons, at different times, had set fire to the bath in their younger days.  Angel! I cried, can all this be?  How clever to hide the evidence of bonfires in the bath in this way!  And then the vision changed and the Angel showed me myself sitting in glory in the bright yellow sunlight as it shone through the sparkly butterflies hanging in the window of my fragrant and miraculously uncluttered sitting room.  I was lying shining with the light of Splendid Housewifery, amongst exotic and sumptuous cushions on my sofa, smelling of a Fenjal Bath and wearing clean clothes and eating healthy food. And in my vision I knew, by the spirit of the Guiding Angel unfolding this vision of the future, that there was a toffee sponge pudding in the oven for later. 

So I cleaned the house, wearing only my old dressing gown.  I stopped first to have a frugal breakfast after my guests had had theirs, and spurred on by the knowledge given to me by my vision, I washed my house.  All of it.  And did the bin bags.  Yuck.  

By the time I had had my Fenjal bath (and lo, it came to pass etc), put on clean clothes, made some healthy food, it was 2 o'clock and the sun was at its zenith, streaming through the twinkly butterflies that hang from my window (a 50th birthday present) in a kind of Art Installation of colour and sparkles and hope.

So here I lie in my sofa.  Working up an appetite for tea and planning to text Daughter watching "16 and Pregnant" on telly all day next door in her pyjamas, to go and make it.  I am utterly content.  I have achieved the impossible and despite feeling allergic to and defeated by housework today, I have made my home a glorious haven, conducive to a restful, peaceful and spiritually uplifting day.  I long for many things in a wider sense, such as Artistic Success with Ease.  Such as Wise and Self Sufficient Children.  Such as Finding Life a Bit Easier and not least, Not Wanting To Eat Bread And Butter All The Time.  But now, for as long as the sun streams into my soul through the butterflies in the window, for as long as the house is zinging with lemon fresh cleaning materials, and for as long as I don't have to do anything till tomorrow morning, then I have succeeded.  I don't got nothing to say, except this.  Thank You Angel of Artists and Housework.  You Was Right.

"That's OK Matey.  The Lord has just asked me to tell you the sticky toffee pudding is done."

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