After spending time yesterday on hands and knees cleaning the hardwood floor, I have to wonder if human beings evolved to stand erect so they wouldn’t see what the floors really look like most of the time.
Dings, dirt, nail scratches, cat hair, and blotches of various kinds become much more glaring close up and personal.
Today there’s a trail of wet paw prints across the newly cleaned floor.
I feel resigned and a hint of dejection, almost because I should.
Mostly I feel grateful for how everything got there in the first place.
Well, maybe except for the dings looking more like divots close up.
I am thankful for the amazingly warm and snowless weather these past weeks. The two “elder men” run to the deck door as soon as the sun swings around, and often sooner just in case an opening magically appears.
Today’s melted snow meant they couldn’t go out yesterday as the small weather systems blew through.
Every day Fluffy can sit in his favourite spot in the deck in the middle of the winter is a blessing. Tomkin is just starting to understand he doesn’t have to brave the cold.
Dings, scratches and hair represent lives lived, feeling safe, belly splitting laughter, and being home.
Dirt and blotches indicate priorities aren’t skewed by some bygone standard I shall never achieve.
The matte finish on the hardware reflected far more than I could ever imagine.