Missing something along the way

I think I missed something -- like summer -- somewhere along the way.

Last I knew spring was ending and I was complaining about the upcoming heat. Now all of the sudden it's the second week in September and night time temperatures are falling to 10 degrees above freezing.

Brad's trying to talk me into digging out his long johns, and I'm trying to figure out which sack might contain my sweaters and jackets. I swear it's only been a month since I put them in a bag and threw them in the back of the laundry room for storage.

Despite my complaining about the yard work I was going to have to do, I have yet to crawl on the seat of our new riding lawn mower and take it for a spin around the house even once -- and the way it's going, my chances are growing slimmer and slimmer. Maybe we can put a snow shovel on the front of it and I can use it for shoveling the "above average precipitation" the Farmer's Almanac is predicting for this winter

I guess Brad must have seen it was on its way. He and some friends spent Sunday putting rain gutter on the house so the melting snow wouldn't drip into our heat pump and freeze up the fan again this year. They got one side of the house done. It would have been nice to have had it done in the earlier part of the year when we got 5 inches of rain and 3 inches of it ended up in my downstairs bedroom, but as they say, "hind sight is 20/20... "

I've decided that since I neglected my spring cleaning this year, I should concentrate on a little fall cleaning. I ordered all my new cleaning products from a "green" supplier and made sure to check the "slow mail" box. That gives me at least six days to clean up the house enough to get to all the things I need to clean.

I've never been much of a fan of spring cleaning. You've sat in the house all winter long and spring rolls around. The temperature outside is a perfect 75 degrees. You could be out going for walks, digging in the dirt, planting flowers you know are going to die, or just sitting in the sun, soaking up its warmth.

But instead, you have to do spring cleaning. You're stuck inside for three days, breathing in toxic chemicals and dust that's collected in corners you haven't noticed for the last year. The mice have finally evacuated to the great outdoors and you have their mess to contend with. You put a handkerchief on your head, trying to at least keep the cobwebs out of your hair, throw open the windows to "freshen" the house and spend the rest of the day looking out of those windows wishing you could be out there getting dirt under your fingernails or blisters on your feet.

Personally, I like the idea of winter cleaning. Just make sure you have all your products in stock when the next blizzard is about to arrive, that way you know the entire family will be home and need something to do. The kids will wake up one morning, listening intently to the radio or watching television to find out if school is in session, your husband will be sitting with them with baited breath hoping that work will be called off. At the sound of the first whoop and holler, you can dig out the cleaning supplies you have neatly set in a box and the rags you have laying beside them and start handing out assignments and barking orders like a drill sergeant with his new recruits.

And you, my friend, can sit back and supervise while you look longingly out the window, wishing you could go out and make the biggest snowman on the block.