mop. scrub. hose.
[OT from cottage renovations]
one of clearest symptoms of my shortcomings in the area of ars domestica is that some aspect of the place will get to the point where a massive intervention is required to deal with it. gratifying though its results can be, a program of regular maintenance would be a better approach: binge cleaning is no more suited to domestic management than binge-and-purge eating is to nutrition or weight control.
so yesterday afternoon's project was to take on the porch where dirt, once tracked onto the paint, had apparently decided to settle in for a nice long visit. deck broom and leaf blower had been ineffective so I resorted to Murphy Oil Soap, along with lots of mopping, scrubbing for some of the more intractible spots, and a final phase garden hose rinse. a certain amount of caution was indicated because once the oil soap is applied the surface becomes quite slick and footing is treacherous.
the cat cam caught it all:
(click through these thumbnails for higher resolution images)
the result was a vast improvement. I'm just hoping that the soap residue, along with all the gunk from the porch floor, doesn't have a secondary use as an herbicide. if the hydrangeas and other plants are still there in a week's time I won't worry about it.

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completion, reward and blame
today I got the rest of it done, around the side. this entailed clearing out gardening stuff that had found its way to the porch and allowed the deployment, however late this season, of the ultimate in porch technology: the hammock.
and the critical reviews are in. the Wonder Boy stopped by in the afternoon and regarding the effort observed: "well, you know, Dad, the reason all this happened is that you left the porch outside.
Re: completion, reward and blame
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beautiful and peaceful indeed. it takes a lot of effort to keep it that way but it's well worth it.
the contrast between here and the rest of the world is extreme, but it is time here that makes it more possible to deal with that external reality (to the extent that I ever do, which has been diminishing over time).
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I guess it can be hard to know what to compare it to; next week will mark 16 years here for me. I guess it's like being able to take up full time residence in a summer camp / sprirtual retreat / historic district / nature preserve (for it is all these things), albeit one that is surrounded by yet somehow not quite part of the suburbs. it was a lot more rural when it was founded in 1873 as a Methodist camp meeting site, but we've done surprisingly well at holding back the rising tide.