I feel grumpy. It’s the first real spring day of the year. Am I out hiking? Am I sitting on the back deck soaking up the sun? No. I’m cleaning out my car’s interior, an interior, I might add, which really needs it.
I pull the wet/dry vacuum cleaner my husband has hauled out for me and move it into position to pull up dog hair, the main reason the inside of my car looks so grungy. I position the nozzle and hose, ready to attack the mess.
I should be happy that the treacherous mini-glacier that covered the driveway only a few days ago is gone, a sure sign of spring, but I’m not. The sooner this chore is finished, the better.
I turn on the vacuum cleaner and its irritating racket fills the air. Another reason to be grumpy. The bits and pieces of gravel, several of last fall’s dried leaves, all these items disappear as the vacuum sucks them up.
I stand back and survey my work. I’ve made some headway; the passenger seat is cleaner, looks nicer although some of the dog hair appears to have permanently woven itself into the upholstery.
Deciding to be more positive about my experience, I dig out some old sticky pet hair rollers from the back of a closet and try to eke out more hair. It works, to some degree so I busy myself with this more rewarding job.
Meanwhile, the sun rises higher in a pure blue sky and my spirits lift ever so slightly. I stand back and analyze the scene. Yet, this chore is at least half finished, so I apply even more effort, accompanied by the chatter of red squirrels.
There seem to be an unending parade of them in my yard and apparently, they all feel frisky this morning. Several chase each other up and down the large spruce tree, chattering as if the world is coming to an end and they must warn me.
Staying grumpy is difficult on a day like today as icicles drop and snow piles shrink before my eyes, and soon I’m working at the finishing touches. Wiping down the console and dashboard with Pledge is the most rewarding part of the whole task. I dust the steering wheel, sit back and inhale the nice clean smell.
Finishing feels great and as I walk to the house, a butterfly lands in the nearby snow, alongside the path, the first one of the season. I figure it’s my reward.
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