I Should Be Sweeping

          I should be sweeping.  Since my arrival home yesterday evening, I have done two loads of laundry, prepared one meal, practiced my flute, gone through a week’s worth of mail, gotten somewhat caught up on last week’s course work, cleaned out my inbox, and cleaned out the kitty litter box.  But I haven’t swept or vacuumed yet.

            The kitchen was a pleasant surprise:  Mom did NOT reorganize the pantry this time.  I do need to find the skillet, though.

            Right now I should be doing any number of things other than write, but a week with no writing suddenly caught up with me, and I could wait no longer to open a fresh blank document page on my computer.  Funny that should occur the moment I thought, “I should be sweeping.”

            Years ago when I was working on my thesis (“The Sins of the Fathers:  Intergenerational Sin in The House of the Seven Gables and The Scarlet Letter”) I would sweep rather than write.  I probably even mopped the kitchen floor a time or two to put off the inevitable.  But blogging is WAY less intimidating than writing a 60+ page paper, so I don’t need to sweep anymore.  Too bad the floors don’t agree.

            But now I’ve spent so much time getting ready to write about my grandson that I think he deserves his own blog post rather than mixing him up with the screaming need of my floors.  Let’s just say that stepping out of the shower this morning was akin to walking barefoot on pine needles, and when I put down a dish for our cat, I saw things I really didn’t want to see under the kitchen table.

            Duty calls.  I better stop procrastinating.  Even though I don’t plan to sit on the floor like I do with Benjamin at his house, I would at least like to feel the floor instead of the great outdoors underneath my feet.