Spring Cleaning

Sunday was one of those sparkling days around here: the sun was shining, it wasn't raining, and it was warm. And, after a long winter, we felt the need to open every door and every window . . . to make the inside of the house at least as warm as the outside.

It was a gorgeous day.

We took advantage of the beautiful weather to give poor ol' Westy a long overdue oil change. And we took advantage of having Westy's inside compartments open and available to give her a long overdue cleaning.

We vacuumed, we windexed, we polished.

We armoral-ed Westy's dash clean.

I even cleaned organized the under-the-backseat compartment. I love to organize compartments.

Westy quite often does not look like this, on the road.

She sometimes looks like this.

Or, yikes, like this.

But right now? She looks like this. A clean Westy is, afterall, a happy Westy.

And then, out of nowhere, Street Sweeper Guy came and swept our street.
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As Street Sweeper Guys do.
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Our Westy was clean, our street was clean . . .
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We were so enamored of this whole Hey, it's Spring! Let's clean! idea, that we went right down to my parents' house, and continued our cleaning jag.

My sister Ann had brain surgery last week. Last week. And she needed a shampoo. Oh, she'd gotten a shampoo already, from Mom, who was awarded an, ahem, C- for her efforts. (Sorry Mom). I was on a cleaning roll, though. I was the cavalry. I was ready to step in and save the day.

I washed Ann's hair.

Ann's got a big incision, but I washed successfully right around it.

And I didn't get a drop of water in her brain.

I'm going to tell Jennie that I'm available as a sub, whenever she needs me.

Who needs creme rinse conditioner when you've got bacitracin?

Westy? Check. Lenox Street? Check. Ann's hair? Check.

Clean. And Fresh.