Saturday, February 23, 2008

Saturdays are next to slovenliness... wait...

or maybe it's slovenliness is next to godliness. No, no. That's not it either. Hmmm... Oh, cleanliness is next to godliness. Phooey. Well, that's not biblical, so whatever. But, it's Saturday. And in our house that's a day to relax and be a tad, well, slovenly.

Dishes in my sink. Laundry awaiting my call... both clean AND dirty. A filthy floor. Carpets needing to be shampooed. Couch cushions needing to be washed. Bathrooms needing scrubbed. Showers needing the same. Counter clutter that grows with each passing day.

A friend posted this a while back, and it pops into my mind on days like today:

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
to paint a picture or write a letter,
bake a cake or plant a seed,
ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
with rivers to swim and mountains to climb,
music to hear and books to read,
friends to cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out there
with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair,
a flutter of snow, a shower of rain.
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go - and go you must -
you, yourself will make more dust!

Share this with all the wonderful women in your life! I JUST DID.
It's not what you gather, but what you
scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.


I'm going to go embrace the sun with my kiddos right now.
Share this:

6 Comments:

Brandi said...

Have Fun!

Lalena said...

Sun??? What sun??? Where???
Take me please!!

Thany said...

Now I have a poem to blame-er use as inspiration for my lifetime of non-cleaning. ;) You rock.

Merr said...

This comment has been removed because it linked to malicious content. Learn more.

MooBeeMa said...

I'll be dusting from the construction of "Your apartment in Oregon" until the cows come home! I could use a soak in some of that California sun about now.

*emmy said...

Ha, Bethany LOOOVES this poem, I could just see it replace the verse she has on her garage door that leads into the kitchen.