And to dust we shall return...

Some things just leave their mark, I guess. You know, those things that happen at some point in your life and leave such an aftertaste that you swear you'll never do it... whatever it happens to be... again? Mine is woodwork. Specifically, dusting the stuff. As in getting down on all fours and crawling around the floor to do the job right. Nope, not gonna happen. Been there, done that, and that dust can collect and pile up into mountains for all I care.

As you may have surmised, it's one of those holdover from childhood things. When I was a kid, every Saturday, and I mean E-V-E-R-Y Saturday, before I could do anything else - like go outside and play - it was my job to dust the woodwork (and whatever else I came across while I was down there.) I had to crawl around the perimeter of the room, dodging chair legs and random pieces of furniture to get the job done. Didn't even find any loose change in the process!

In the whole realm of things, it was really no big deal and took maybe a whopping 15 minutes or so out of my very busy (that play thing, you know!) child life. However, it made an impact, and as an adult in my own home, I simply don't do woodwork. Oh, it gets a lick and a promise with a mop or a feather duster, and sometimes the vacuum. Maybe once or twice a year I'll go after it with a bucket of cleanser, but for the most part? I've got more important things to do than grovel around the floor with a dirty ol' dustrag.

Ah, the dumb stuff we hold onto... I suppose if my mother had had a vacuum, I might not have inherited the job. On the other hand, she did keep a clean home and it was the most efficient way... for her anyway! :)

Dusting is a good example of the futility

of trying to put things right.
As soon as you dust, the fact of your next

dusting has already been established.
George Carlin

Dust is a protective coating for fine furniture.
Mario Buatta