THE DIRT SAYS, "Hi!"

I hope nobody takes offense at the painting. I'm thinking about cleaning the new house and that's the only painting I've ever done about the disgusting subject. Cleaning in the painting looks a lot more fun than I've ever thought it was. And this place is big. Really big. I fell in love with my paradise without noticing it had three floors and no rugs. Rugs are good because you don't see the dirt. You can't miss the dirt now. It screams, "Look at me! Hi! Don't step on me, I'm the house dirt!" Or something. Moon and Autumn, my wonderful kittens are spreading the love around in the form of their leftover fur. The boxes, tools, pillows, and not-put-together lamps don't help.
I looked up Roombas on the web last night and people recommended them. I wish there were more robotic stuff. Dusters for instance. I don't want to be bothered with housework. Ever. I happily do the dishes because Harry cooks and I can't stand to have dishes in the sink. Actually, I can't stand dirt and stuff laying around. I do love the house and the three floors are easily navigated since it's a split level house. The room sizes aren't much more than the row house, but there are two more rooms and one is very large. Well, as soon as the boxes are torn apart or stored, the lights are up, and all the detritus is put wherever it goes, the roomba will be on my shopping list.
Tomorrow is Yom Kippor, the most holy day of the year for Jews. It's a day of atonement and I won't be cleaning the floors. Or painting the door. Our children are coming to have dinner with us. I had wanted to attend services--they're free here--but my son told me they're all day and incredibly boring. I let it go. It is a new year in a new house.