Hyberbole Or Something Like That

The attack would have to be divided. After surveying the options, it was the route of less danger. And while danger is inevitable, why court unnecessary peril?


The risks were only diminished by the two part approach. On the front there was still the possibility of crashes and falling objects. The rear attack held the perils of cold.


But it was the way of the brave, the determined, to face the challenge. It was my way.


Cords, cords and more cords connected to endless electronics covering the desk. The labyrinth would rival the individual strands of a choked government. The immense wood itself was an object of mass that would not be moved by my small force. Where strength is weak, cunning makes strong. Wise words than I just made up.


Not to mention the fact, that to move the desk forward and that taunt maze of cords, with less than desired flexibility in their little copper hearts (Do cords have copper in them?), would probably pull the monitor, printer and assorted other high tech whatchamacallit gadgets off into what would be a now widening gap. Big problem, Charlie. Yes?


Yes.


From the front suction devices were deployed to eradicate the particles tenaciously clinging to every available surface. The rear attack consisted of raising the sill of the glass-covered opening, inserting the electrical conductor into a power source and then repeating the above performance of eradicating dust particles.


Then of course there was the mundane part of wiping down every surface with a damp cloth, waxing the leather inserts and oiling the wood, commonplace responsibilities that could be left to a peon (me!) now that the thick coating of dust had been conquered.



In other words, we're spring cleaning and completely moving my father's computer desk was something after contemplation, I decided it wiser to not attempt. There is a lot of cords and they go to a lot of things. Also, I wasn't sure just how safe it was to sit on the desk and try to reach behind it, over monitor, printer, etc., to vacuum and clean behind the desk.



Leaving the dirt was not an option. But you know, very conveniently located behind the desk is a window, and it doesn't have a screen! So popping the vacuum hose and as much of myself as was necessary through the window from the outside (after I hauled the vacuum out with me and then reaching the cord through to a plug inside), I cleaned and polished, very thoroughly, everything through the open window. It wasn't too cold outside, the snow was melting. :)


That's a little more concise, yes? Sorry about that first version, blame the fumes of bleach and furniture polish.



Speaking of bleach, if I were on Facebook, and there was a Bleach fan club, I think I’d join. I love bleach. But more than that, I love what it can do. Please don’t remind me of my phraseology in the future.


We have these lamp shades, a total of four matching ones, that in there better days were ivory. But many years of dust and what else I don’t like to speculate later, they were grungy. Really, really, grungy! We’ve dusted them with a feather duster, we’ve vacuumed them from time to time, but nothing was done about the seeming rust colored liquid stains that blemished them. I shudder. Mother has talked about painting them, I've been inclined to just replace them period.

With plans underway for a very thorough spring cleaning, I mentioned bleaching them, but Mother mentioned painting. She’s glued the trim on a few times…..it’s something about water soluble glue. Consequently she viewed with apprehension my grand plans to plunge them heartlessly into a soapy, bleachy water solution. She said she’d rather not bleach them. She’s a little more cautious than I am. Apprehensively she okayed a soapy bath. I’ll take what I can get. Anything had to be an improvement.

I had my own hesitations as I was vacuuming them prior to their bath, and was trying to convince mother how easy it would be to simply make new covers. Paint! It seemed an easier solution to her.


I mixed up a concoction of different detergents and put the first one in to soak and started scrubbing with an old toothbrush. Not bad, the fly specks on the inside came right off. But……a little later, scrubbing was doing nothing for the outside.


“I just don’t think soap is going to do it. Bleach…might.” I have a one track mind.


“You can try it.” I have a very tolerant mother, I think she figured that as soaked as they were, if they were going to melt, they were going to melt. “We can always glue the trim back on again.”

I tried it. And almost like magic, the dirt and grime gave way to let the former ivory glory show through. We were thrilled, both of us. She didn’t have to paint them, nor did I have to even contemplate recovering them.


And the trim on the bottom did come off, almost completely, but while they were still damp, I clothes pinned it back in place and it re-adhered as it dried. I’m all for taking responsibility for your actions.


Very proud of them I am. I showed them to my married sis when she came over and she exclaimed, “Wow! Did you recover them?”


Mummy’s thrilled, I’m thrilled.


Spring cleaning isn’t done, but we’re making progress. And the dirt that no one else cares about? I know it’s gone. And it’s a very good feeling.