July 30, 2023, Sunday—
Ancient dust is the one constant in our lives right now.
I’ve trained to order pick at the warehouse the last two weeks, and let me tell you, most packages in transit have a fine sheen of dust. It runs off in black streaks when you soap your hands.
It was also in the 90°s the last few days, so dust mixed my sweat into a sheen of dust-mud.
Then, when I get home—dust.
Rachel, a champion, has scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom over and over with Radiance (Aldi’s Dawn), Murphy’s Oil Soap and/or Clorox. There’s a fine sheen everywhere of grease, stranger hair, cobwebs and dust. Sometimes it’s bits of grease in cobwebs. Sometimes it’s a hair, varnished into a wall with grease.
She’s leaving for active duty today, but wanted to get the kitchen cabinets (mouse toilets) Clorox-ed and floor mopped for me. She already shoveled strata of grease off the stove, epicenter of the Grease, and reluctantly threw out the ceiling fan blades—particle board slats, fat with grease and webs.
Upstairs, she scrubbed and caulked the bathtub, and hung a shower curtain. When she comes home, we’ll replace the 3″ faucet you can’t fit a hand under, and paint the kitchen. All the bare minimums that help us feel at home, and not squatting in a flop of faded grandeur.
She also navigated the washer and refrigerator deliveries, radon testing and asbestos abatement, gutter and squirrel abatement, plumber, electrician, tumbledown trees, and a nervous cat and wife. I changed the vacuum bag last night and she said to be careful. It contained the corpses of wolf spiders.
She’s done all this in every spare moment, and I can’t believe her energy, skill and care for us. Physical work again for me feels good, but it’s taking a minute to adjust. My anxiety has also been nuts. Gearing up now to take my turn—whatever that will look like.
We started a new dog-sit last night. She came along, though I’m taking care of Leo alone. We showered (caulk is drying on our tub), and I picked up kimchee soup from Han’s. We ate, and studied the crisp corners on the molding in the 1900s house here on Vassar.
Just one coat of paint? And not a speck anywhere.
Kitchen! And photo of the sweet pup we’re dog sitting. I’m a dog photographer, now.