It is folly to expect men to do all that they may reasonably be expected to do.
I cannot believe I just said that. Spring has galloped into our life here on the farm. The gigantic puddles outside the door, mixed with the muddy boot prints that keep finding their way into my house, are a sure sign.
This is exactly what I have been waiting for. Why am I so stressed, now that it is actually here? A lapse in memory, from one season to the next has left me scrambling. Actually, I like to blame the word expectations, for the big mess I find myself in.
Take, for instance, that whole spring cleaning thing. Spring cleaning has always been a very important ritual, growing up. Both of my Grandma’s were all about the importance of this ritual. I have to admit I had fallen into its grip and unfortunately fallen out of it, over and over for a lifetime now. Spring cleaning oh yes what lovely thoughts come to mind. There is absolutely nothing like it.
Closets should be sorted, and cleaned out, meaning nothing will fall on your head when you open the door. Your dust bunnies, you know the ones. Those ones that hid all winter under, well everything. You finally get to chase those little devils away, out the door and through those finally open windows. Out into the great outdoors, where they will romp and play until next fall. That would be when once again, they come in for hibernation with their friends’, spider web, wood ashes and stale air.
Windows would always be squeaky clean, walls may sport new paint. Oh, the smells of this spring cleaning thing have always been my favourite part. Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?
My head filled with the “expectations” of this spring cleaning thing a few weeks ago. I have to say I was doing pretty well. Channelling my grandma I dove right in. Now at a full stop, those expectations have resulted in boxes jammed in the hallways, dust bunnies cowering under beds that cannot be reached. The contents of those closets are lying on the floor blocking, and protecting them from the shooing out the door.
In my defense, calving is nearing the end, but there is still the need for constant checking. All those interruptions from the spring cleaning have me distracted and falling behind. While outside I notice all the spring jobs that need to be done. For instance, there is a whole backhoe bucket full of birdhouses. Yes, you heard that right. My Hero had replaced the entire barnyard fence, from wood panels to metal. The bird houses had to come down. They lie in the bucket that I pass by every time I head to the tractor. The bluebirds will be back soon, and they do not even have a house to think about cleaning.
It looks like this will be a build the birdhouses weekend. After all, and at the very least, we have a house. It may be crowded with boxes and totes, mixed with a few cans of paint, and cleaning supplies. But, it has a roof overhead unlike those poor coming back soon bluebirds. See what I mean? Expectations are on hold. You could say, that the bluebirds are actually protecting those dust bunnies.