They never called me a housekeeper...

When I don't like a place I live in, like this one, I tend to be a little, shall we say, lackadaisical in my cleaning efforts. Sure I keep the bathroom clean, and the kitchen clean, and with two pre-teens in residence the living room tends to have mice and shoelaces and little plastic balls with bells inside of them strewn about (you DO know they're cats, right?), and let's not even TALK about my bedroom, but there are areas that could use a little more attention. Like, for instance, the top of the fridge. It's dusty, but unless I'm on my tippy-toes I can't really SEE it. And the burners on my stove could use some scrubbing. But this morning's little fiasco was a sure lesson in how important it is to keep the blades on the ceiling fan clean.

You know how you have that little switch that makes the blades turn in the opposite direction? One for "winter" and one for "summer"? So I have been on "winter" since, well, last summer, and I have it on from time to time to keep the air circulating. Yesterday it was like 75 out, and though I do not find that to be warm, this apartment was like a flipping sauna. I had done some routine cleaning earlier in the day, then read for a really long time, played with the kitlets and then took a shower around 4:30 as Marsha suggested we go to Bridgeport to check out DSW and other stuff. Just the hot water from the shower and the lights in there made the bathroom next to unbearable. I mean, it wasn't hot out, but I bet if there were a thermometer in here somewhere it would have read like 90 degrees, and I'm not kidding. Before I left the house at 5:20 I started the dishwasher, but I had a window open and the fan going, so I figured by the time I got back it would be fine.

Wrong. I got home at like 9 and seriously I don't know how the kittens survived it. Hot. And like, steamy. So I put a little ice cube in their water and settled into getting used to it myself.

So this morning, I got up around 7, it was nice and cool and the temps are only supposed to be in the 60s again, and I went to the supermarket and got home and thought, hey, why don't I switch the fan?

I'm not gonna lie to you - I have seen the thick dust on the blades. But they don't bother me and I don't bother them, and there is a little part of the absolutely-terrified-of-bugs-wasps-and-spiders girl that was thinking, hm, maybe something is living up there... So though I have considered wiping the blades, I never really got around to it.

And now I don't have to.

I switched the fan to "summer" and suddenly, it was snowing! Not white fluffy snow, but brown fluffy dust clumps showering down upon the living room. Being skittish by nature, I naturally ran for cover, and the kittens thought I had brought home some sort of new toy (which was briefly amusing to watch but in the end not good, not good at all). So I whipped out the dreaded big vacuum cleaner and sucked it up. The fan is still on full blast and the last little holders on are still falling here and there, but I left the vacuum out and will get them later, when I am sure it's completely clean.

Those kits however will NEVER get used to the big vacuum (they have come to respect the dust buster since they see it more often), and after I was done with phase one I found them huddled together in the laundry basket on top of the dryer, wondering WHY IN THE HELL MUST SHE TORTURE US LIKE THIS?? Poor kits.

But you know, one less chore for me to do, I guess...