To clean my entire bathroom just now, I had to remove the laundry hamper and a stroller, a campmat and drying rack, a trombone, a 48-pack Pampers, four folding chairs, 2 stacked child potties, 4 feet of 6x1/2" plank, the hamper lid, a trunk on its end, its fake silk covering, a mat, a loony, and the garbage can.
This is where my life has brought me.
Lately I've been more single-minded than usual over a writing project for Globe Theatre, deadline end of May. See Coteau Books fall catalogue.
Soon I turn my attention to ideas, like English lyrics for Alfredo Marceneiro, the fadista.
But that bathroom. I had to bring in the broom and dustpan, an ounce of Mr.Clean in tub of hot water. These are secrets nobody wants, I realize that.
Hillsdale Book and my forthcoming retirement soiree put on by my employer (Monday, June 15, 3:00, Luther College Room 100) hover. And what's the point of hot water if you let it sit? Off to finish the bathroom.