The People Are Coming!The People Are Coming!

The People Are Coming!The People Are Coming! - theHumm February 2020

By Glenda Jones

I feel like I’m living in that Ikea commercial — in a big flap because company is coming, important company who’ll be here for a few days, and who might be opening cupboards or looking under beds, and yikes! Do I really want them to see the pet fur that at any moment could come alive down there?

It’s Alan’s major birthday on March 1 (everybody sing!) and our kids — well, grown adults — are gathering for the occasion. It’s a long time since we were all together, so this is momentous. I want to make a good impression. This is one time when low lighting is not going to cut it.

After the doldrums of flu season in December and procrastination season in early January, I am now hit with the cleaning season bug. I’m dragging stuff to recycling, to the Hub, to the garbage, anywhere to get rid of excess. Alan has to keep his stuff tidy or it’ll be gone. The dogs are sleeping on top of their toy basket, in case I have at that and dump their favourites.

I actually enjoyed cleaning the cupboards. I discovered treasures in unlikely places, a sheaf of letters my Mom wrote us in 1998, poems written in six-year old French and little paintings of apple trees, and thank-you notes from people I have long forgotten. There was also a collection of post cards I kept because I liked the pictures, plus one hilarious one from my sister that I kept because she wrote a silly verse on it. None of that got turfed.

There was a ratty looking kindergarten project in the recipe book cupboard. We all have one of these: two paper plates, one cut in half, sewn together with red yarn, and Happy Mother’s Day on the front in primary printing. It still holds the bits and bobs of kids’ art, and some little recipes they wrote out for things like “hot choclat”. In the front is a yellowed sheet gently folded with the recipe for Crunchy Granola, a big hit sent directly from CBC’s This Country in the Morning with Peter Gzowski in 1972. The cleaning was put on hold while I reminisced and whipped up a full batch of granola. I’d have had the “hot choclat” too, but alas, no cocoa in the cupboard. No, I couldn’t part with any of those things.

On to the next cupboard, and I got serious. No one needs three wine bottle bags, two thermoses, five mismatched chipped mugs or six paper plates that are crushed. And what about a spaeztle maker? Now I have one shelf with little on it, always a good thing in this house where I consider an empty drawer the height of luxury. The glasses are all sparkling, the odd ones are discarded, so everything is pristine and a treat to behold.

The space under beds is a no man’s land that has been a godsend when the people are coming. Bed skirts hide a lot of area, and before we got Miss Diva I used it with gay abandon. She, however, discovered my hiding place and proceeded to chew corners of everything from picture frames to fabric. She leaves her toys under the bed and when she pulls them out, all dusty, I feel pangs of guilt for at least ten seconds. I have to hang upside down to vacuum under there, but it’s getting done, all in the name of “the people are coming”.

The closets are a particular challenge, but if a guest should hazard to open one I don’t want them crushed under the detritus that could spring out unbidden. We double-shelved all our closets, probably not a good idea in hindsight, since we can’t reach and never see the stuff on the top shelf. Surely no one will want us to drag down that clutter. However, I swear hangers have bred freely in the dark; what began as five is now a mass of fifty-five. Wicked things! There are three duvets in there, and multiple useless sham pillows. (Have you ever figured out a purpose for those piles of pillows that are decorators’ delights?) Art works in boxes, balls of yarn, antique silverware, and the crème de la crème: my grandmothers’ wedding dresses! There are four boxes of photos, three stuffed toys, two lovely hats and one handmade quilt. I’ve repacked it all securely and am hoping it will stay there.

If I get really serious, I’ll take down the curtains and dust the high places. I’ll clean the light fixtures and maybe polish the silver. However, I don’t want to overdo it, right? Probably best if I content myself with what has been accomplished so far, and hope that a quick vacuum the day before guests arrive will suffice. I’ll make favourite meals and smile a lot, and maybe no one will notice the rest. After all, housework is self-replicating, and no matter what is done one day it has to be redone the next, especially when we live in this constant swirl of beautiful dog fur. I used to tell the kids, “you can write your name in the dust, but you can’t put the date”. So bring on the people — we’re ready as we’ll ever be!

In memoriam – Dr. Bill Buttle - theHumm February 2020

By Kris Riendeau

I honestly can’t remember when Bill Buttle first started contributing Artbeat cartoons to theHumm, but I think it was some time within our first year of publishing. So for the past two decades (give or take a year or two), his humorous take on the world of art and music has had pride of place here on page 2. On Sunday, January 19, Bill passed away peacefully in Arnprior at the age of 79, leaving behind grieving family and friends as well as legions of Artbeat fans throughout......

The People Are Coming!The People Are Coming! - theHumm February 2020