fridge worthy

No new poetry today. Nothing overheard at the manor. That old
devil moon put me in the cleaning of odd places, and rearranging
mood this week, so I don't have a clever blog preloaded and ready
to post. When this particular mood happens to strike, I have to take
full advantage, because I'm pretty laid back, when it comes to
housekeeping. I'm not a slob, but let's just say the manor is not
always sparkling clean. I like to do more interesting things like read,
experiment in the kitchen, write poetry, and of course, blog.

It's about this time of year, before the holiday season hits me like a
Mack truck, I start thinking about things, like the top of the manor
refrigerator. The fridge and I are exactly the same height, so I don't
ever see the top, or even think about it, for that matter, until
November rolls around.

Every year I mentally analyze the holiday guest list to check for tall
people. You know, tall enough to see the top of the fridge in their
stocking feet. My daughter went through a phase, in her college
years, of dating only giants over 6' 5". These big guys, because of
their height, qualified as "fridge worthy", and the top stayed
amazingly clean.

Well, I can't think of any super tall holiday guests this year, (except
my youngest son, and he doesn't count) but I climbed up on a chair,
anyway, and gave the top of the fridge a good going over with me
mops and me brushes, just because. You know what I'm talking
about; that icky combination of cooking grease and dust, that turns
into tiny wet mice, when you go over it with a damp cloth. Well,
the mice are disposed of, even if no one is "fridge worthy" this year.