Cleaning of the Spring Sort

The sky has had enough of Winter, like the rest of those who live on and around the Farm. It has decided to give the sun a bit of a chance to shine brightly down, and shine it does, right into the Farmhouse itself.

“Have the windows always looked this grimy?” the Farmer’s Wife mutters to herself as she passes through the Kitchen.

Hannah stops and looks at the scattered sunbeam. “Why does it look like that?” she asks.

Her Mother points to the window, where fingerprints and smudges are smiling up at her. “That’s why. Those smudges have to go!”

Hannah groans, rightly sensing this will somehow involve her.

“I declare,” says her Mother. “Tomorrow will be a Cleaning Day of the Spring Sort!”

Another groan sounds, this one from the other room. Jacob has heard as well. His plans and hopes for a Day of Rest have been dashed.

The next morning brings the sun once more, despite the hopes and yes, even the prayers of many a child living on the Farm that all this cleaning business might be forgotten.

Unfortunately for said children, the smudges remain visible. The Farmer’s Wife is visible, too. See her there, a bucket in hand, filled to the brim with scaldingly hot water with a dash or two of vinegar along with several drops of essential oils in the types and fragrances best suited a day like today.

The children sigh in relief. She only has one bucket in hand. Maybe they’re being released from their duties.

But wait! Oh, no! Do you see that? Yes. It is a spray bottle filled with a similar concoction. Two spray bottles. One for each child.

These are handed out, along with linen rags. “Each window is to be scoured, thoroughly,” their Mother commands, as she herself moves onto the walls.

Hannah grabs her rag, as does Jacob. Each goes to a window and begins: first a spray, then a wipe. A spray and wipe. Chocolate laced fingermarks vanish, along with every other bit and piece that goes with a Season Spent Indoors.

The Farmer’s Wife comes to assess their progress. The light streams  unhindered across her face and the wall just beyond. She smiles as warm as it and all who enjoy its rays.

Her children see this as well and set down their rags and spray bottles.

A frown replaces the smile. Their Mother’s left eyebrow raises. Rags are taken up again along with their bottles.

“Maybe we should go do the upstairs, too,” Hannah suggests.

Her Mother smiles. “Good idea.”