Thursday, November 24, 2011

Death By Dusting

During my childhood my family moved house-a lot. I continued my nomadic existance right through to my mid twenties when having children forced me to put down roots. Which is to say, the idea of packing up a household consisting of not only myself, but also my hero and, at that point, two small children, filled me with dred and so through pure terror/laziness we bought our little house in the suburbs. I tell you of my vast number of past abodes so that you know when I say this is the dustiest house I have ever lived in, I've got a good base for comparison.
And this is the dustiest house I have ever lived in.
I'm not talking about a fine layer settling on neglected ornaments here. I'm talking about a quilt of dust as thick as the A-K yellow pages over everything. Now you might think that's to be expected if you haven't dusted in sixteen years but this particularly aggressive dust accumulates within days: certainly less than a week. I've long since surrendered to the inevitablity of the dust. Once every month or so I go into a frenzy then between times I just wipe over the electrical appliances and brush away the spider webs.
As an aside we have particularly diligent spiders here. Once I set up the ironing board, went away to get some water to fill the iron and by the time I got back there was a web string from the ironing board to the window sill. I have a witness. I made my hero come and assure me I wasn't seeing things. It does seem a bit unfair that we should have webs when you consider the size of the huntsmen that make their way in here. But back to the dust...
So yesterday I decided it was time to do some dusting. I wiped and vaccuumed and flittered about with the synthetic feathers (supposedly static to pick dust up not just blow it about). It all looked lovely, and probably will do for a few days.
Then last night I turned on the television. Reception was absolute rubbish-or so I thought. I put up with the flickering for a while then gave up and changed channels. Again with the bad reception. In fact every channel had a shockingly bad picture. And then-POOF! The screen went completley black.
We tried everything in our repetoire (basically unplugging it and plugging it back in) to no avail. Our TV was dead. Dead as a doornail.
I'm not sure what went wrong but I think it was the dust. The machine had probably accustomised itself to operating in a dust rich environment and then I came along and cleaned up. It just couldn't cope.
I'll be much more selective about my dusting in the future, that's for sure.

Monday, November 21, 2011


My men were watching the V8 Supercars on TV and I came in just as one was leaving the pits (a car that is, not the men). I paused and watched it swing back out onto the track. Then said as deadpan as I could manage, "He didn't give way."
The look of shock and disbelief on my hero's face was priceless, as for just a second he thought my comment was serious.
Oh yeah, gotcha!