mardi 16 mars 2010

You spray it, you wipe it

The blackened microfiber cloth


And the black filth and -- mold? -- is on the cloth. My special micro fiber cloth that is, kind of like a Gleen Green Cleaning Cloth, only maybe not quite as good. I don't know. I didn't think not to use the green cleaning products I buy at the local supermarket on this dirt.

Check out the radio jingle. I'd hate to get that stuck in my head.

I saw them hanging in bunches of 5, their lurid colors turning the head. A video vaunting their prowess played in the middle. I watched it from beginning to end.

They're only 5 euros, myself nudged me.

"I know. I can't really go wrong, can I?" Myself shook her head, and I reached for my bunch of cloths in lavender, hot pink, neon green, traffic yellow and sky blue and headed on over to quincaillerie to order my two window security grills, a little embarrassed by the screaming colors in my left hand.

Well, who's embarrassed now? Not I.

I was able to do the entire house of windows with a single cloth, rather than a whole roll of recycled paper paper towels, and only one nail got destroyed from the scraping, but it didn't go through the cloth. Imagine.

The problem with cleaning windows, though, is that once they are done, you realize how shameful it was that they ever got that way in the first place, and that it isn't going to last. I'll need to find the courage to do it again far too soon, although they at least won't be covered with splatters of chaux and the residue from the paint stripper I used to take off several decades of layers of paint. I whined to myself all the way through it.

Wimp, said myself.

"I am not."

Yes, you are. Myself sounded too sure of herself for my comfort.

I leave that for you to judge for yourself.

The problem? If we can see out now that the window treatment -- ahem -- is gone, the workers across the street can now see in, too. At least there's still not much to see. For now.

Note the scrim of dirt before.

Meanwhile, the workers are gone. Again. But, we have a quote for the front steps. The only problem is that I can't figure out how to get the dogs out if we do them and the slab for the new kitchen entry at the same time. We'll need a ramp system over the fresh concrete, or else it will be far worse than Wisp's paws in her pooping perambulations.
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