In many respects, I should consider myself fortunate to have experienced living in different places and cultures. My wife has a higher score card than me, and has probably been relocated more times than she has had new hairstyles.
So here we are now. Together and very happy that we are settled for the first time in our lives. Contents in every respect.
Except for dust!
This is a totally new experience for us having never stayed in one place long enough to gather the stuff. It has a peculiar property in that it can manifest itself so very quickly in the silliest of places. We are not that dust naive that we don’t know about the dust under the sofa. Not that we ever look there to check though. But we certainly hadn’t realised that it has the capacity to form itself half way down a corridor. Or even more surprising was the discovery of the dust and spider web combination that levitates dust into weird gravity defying locations hanging from the ceiling.
Another shock was dust’s ability to turn glass yellow by settling and attracting cooking grease and all sorts of other nasties and then coating the glass in an impossible to clean glaze. I had never heard of a plant needing dusting. But how wrong I was.
One of our biggest shocks came when for one reason or another one of us decided to go searching for something in the bottom of a wardrobe. Oh dear me! How did all that dust get through the doors of the wardrobe? And in such great quantity. It was a veritable dust farm.
Bookshelves have now become our most dreaded nightmare. They are perennial dust magnets that have an unnatural ability to multiply dust particles at a faster rate than our vacuum can suck up on full power.
Unfortunately, we have not as yet fully accustomed ourselves to this settled and dust coated environment of stability. I am working very hard on honing my male skills of blindness to dirt to solve the dilemma, but my wife will never have these powers of ignorance. So we will fight on. Knowing that we will never ever win this stability induced dust war.