It is my living room, and I want it dust free, thank you very much.

Good people of the world, today the entryway, living room, and hallway were on tap.

I'll go ahead and start the post with what was managed:

*Fluffed and rotated sofa cushions (of our lovely purple velvet sofa)
*Dusted surfaces, objects, furniture, light fixtures (I remembered them today!), and electronics
*Swept, vacuumed, and mopped floors

This took 2 hours and 15 minutes. And to top it all off, I didn't even finish all the things on the list for today! As it stands, I'm running through all of Ms. Stewart's Spring chores in March, and scattering all the duties throughout the month so I won't be doing everything on one day (and, seeing the amount of time involved, I wouldn't be able to get everything done in one day anyway). When added to the daily, weekly, and monthly tasks, the Spring tasks add a lot to do. Spring is the season with the most items on the to-do list, but Summer seems to be the one with the least. So, I'll look forward to less hectic days then.

I did manage make the bed this morning, so we'll see if we can keep that daily task on schedule.

It was also time to replace the baking soda in the fridge. However, I found (at my beloved neighborhood Big Lots) a mesh packet filled with volcanic rock pieces which neutralize odors and can be used in the fridge (even Ms. Stewart mentions these packets in the Handbook). The coolest thing: after a few months you can microwave the packet for a few minutes or hang it in full sunlight for a few hours, and it's ready to go for another three months. No more replacing boxes of baking soda! Reduce, reuse, recycle! Yes.

But enough, dear readers, you must certainly be wondering how my music came into this domestic assault on dust, dirt, and dog hair. Let me tell you...

Once again I tried to keep my mind focused on the music as I performed my tasks. And again, my mind wanted to focus on anything but. To force my hand (well, to force my mind, that is), I determined to turn my life into a musical. I began singing to the muse, asking her to drop by. Now, I've sat through enough horrible musicals in my day to know that you don't need to be given a transcript of my song; what I sang wasn't important. No, what was important was the simple fact that I was singing at all. You see, despite the fact that I am a singer-songwriter, I don't always sing every day, or sometimes even every second or third day. This is a habit that must end.

So, I sang to the dirt. I sang to the clumps of dog hair that are ever present no matter how much I clean. I sang to Simon, the adorable creator of the aforementioned hair. I sang to the mop and the hardwood floors. I sang to my hands.

And, when I determined that I was finished for the day, I went and picked up the 12-string guitar that my dad just sent me (thanks Dad!), tuned it up, and strummed for a while. Some nice chord progressions came, nothing Earth-moving, but still nice. Much like singing, I don't play every day, which is also something that has to change.

And change is the name of this game.

Happy scrubbing, folks!