Disgusting ...

Like the great daughter I am, I've been helping my mother clean the house.

She and I attacked the laundry room (where the washing machine, dryer, and freezer is). It was disgustingly dirty with dust bunnies and other nasties from the dryer's lint trap. The room was filled with forgotten socks, shirts that were too small (or too big), and childrens' boardgames I hadn't seen since I was twelve.

Then, my mom started to clean the kitchen, throwing away all-star baseball roosters from 1997 with teammate's phone numbers on it, boxing up creamed corn for the foodbank, and brushing away inches (yes inches) of dust off the top of the fridge. She's planning on completely remodeling the kitchen. She wants to add more cabinetry and a "breakfast nook." I think she should paint the walls in "Rosedust."

Sherwin-Williams's "Rosedust"

I think the color is fantastic and if she doesn't use ... hell, even if she does use it ... I plan to use it for myself. Maybe in a bedroom or a living room. I think it would be grand in a bedroom, even though all my bedroom colors are purples (lilacs really) and yellows.

Anyways, I cleaned the living room. I decided that it was time to clean out the heaters. The only word that comes to mind is DISGUSTING! I washed the wall paper with a vingear and water solution (because it's better than using hazardous household cleaners). It was nasty. I pulled out the metal pieces in the baseboard heaters and washed them in the solution. Then, I had to vaccum out the heating element.

I don't know if my mother or father had ever done this before. It was disgusting!

The bare heating element in the living room before I vaccumed

I almost threw up when I got down on the floor. It was filled with dust, dirty, old dog food that Ruggy (my mother's old cairn terrier that we had to put down in 2004) had thrown around and gotten caught in there, and dog hair. It was NARSTY (that's nasty times two).

about when I almost puked

It took me almost all afternoon to completely clean out the heater and the rest of the living room. By the end, I was exhausted and my arms hurt from all the scrubbing I had to do.

much cleaner if you ask me

I'm not a maid. I've decided this. I think I should get paid for cleaning things. No one ever pays me. It's sad.