Dustful of memories

Dusting. It's a chore in any house that needs to be done. It's the one cleaning job I like and dislike at the same time.

I like it because it's quiet. It lets me think, make mental to-do lists or organize my day while I'm doing something else. I can carry my ipod in my pocket, turn on music, a book or program and make my way from room to room with a dust cloth and dust brush. Why do I dislike it? Come on, you know how I stay away from dirt and dust as much as possible!! ;)

Nothing was different this week as I put on gloves, grabbed my dusting tools and started in the kitchen with the ceiling fan and skylight. I really, really love the dusting brush I have because it has a handle about 18" long that allows me to reach the the ceiling fan and high places (ok, I admit--I STILL end up standing on a chair in addition to that, but still...it helps!) and yet the handle isn't long enough that I hit everything behind me as I'm working.

As I'm working, one thing that crosses my mind is that I really should add this wonderful little cleaning tool to my wedding registry list. It's something I'll put to good use. I've already made note of it on my "Will Need" list when I move, but it would be a good registry item. Hmmmm...I'll have to take another look at Bed, Bath and Beyond. :)

This particular dusting brush we've had for years and it has memories all of it's own. It was one that Grandma had given to Mom for Christmas one year at my uncle's in Denver. The funny thing is that that particular brush didn't make it home with us; it ended up staying there accidentally and Grandma ended up buying Mom another one.

It was that same brush that us girls loved being able to dust with. Perhaps because of the pink and purple colors in it?? Mom never totally loved it like us girls did. She claimed that it was only "brushing" the dirt from one place to the next. Not dusting it up and getting rid of it. She preferred to use a dust cloth. Our dusting habits slightly differed from hers. But ultimately, the house still got dusted efficiently every week.

The handle has been bent in half and straightened many times. It's gone behind the fridge and under the stove to collect items out of reach. It's dusted the clock high on the wall every week. And it's the very same one that dusts off the entry way hanging light that Luke constantly hits his head on every month.

It's just a dusting brush. It's old. It's well used. It's been washed, hit against the side of the house to rid it of the dust it's gathered and had Endust sprayed on it too many times. But it holds memories in addition to the dust. Every time I pick up that brush, the thought runs through my head, "Mom didn't like this as much as a dust cloth."

And every time that I dust something with it instead of a dust cloth, I can't help but think, "Mom wouldn't have dusted this with this."

It still collects dust. That filthy, fluttery stuff. But it's also collected memories all of its own through the years. Maybe I'll replace this one with a new one for Dad to keep and pack this old pink and purple one to take with me to Colorado. Wonderful memories that it holds!

Hmmmm.....:)