Found a half-inch hair growing out of my chin. Heh heh. I mean, I figured I was a witch, but now I sense the truth of it.
Today, birds chaperone a spring-feeling afternoon in sun warmer than it’s been for a while.
Swept the back stairs, finally. I say “finally” because I must’ve looked on their cringe-provoking state in disgust at least five times before remedying the situation. Some messes honestly don’t cross my radar, but when one does, and I keep ignoring it…
Okay. Going to poke the wound. What goes through my head when I see dust piled high in the corners and choose to walk away from it? I think that’s worth investigating.
For now though, am reporting that using a broom – instead of using a vacuum or mop – felt like casting off unwelcome spirits. And then came the pleasure of walking on clear steps.