I’ve been spring cleaning this weekend. It just seemed like the right time to do it. Outside, the temperatures are still well below freezing, and on top of that, our valley is trapped under a heavy canopy of freezing fog-and still covered with a blanket of snow and ice.
I figure that once spring arrives,
(A) I will actually be able to see my garden again.
(B) It will be possible to go outside without wearing 27 layers of clothing.
(C) I will not want to do spring cleaning.
The Lone Ranger had Silver. Roy Rogers had Trigger. And when I have my own dirt bandits to run out of town, I have a trusty sidekick, too. My vacuum. My Royal Pony. The phrase “They don’t build them like that any more,” was coined with my vacuum in mind. I don’t know how old my Pony is, but I do know that its superior quality justified a complete refurbishing by a previous owner, and in the five or so years I’ve used it, my Pony has yet to let me down. Plus all that chrome and turquoise? My Pony should be in a parade.
So Saturday, as I was brandishing my Pony’s powerful cleaning wand, I sort of vacuumed up a quarter…
Is twenty-five cents worth braving the bad guys of dust to retrieve? Or should I simply vacuum off into the sunset, comforted by the knowledge that when it comes to superior suction, my Pony has me covered.
Tell me, dear readers-what would you do?