Musings on Spring: Frenzied Times

What mental images are conjured in your mind when the words “It’s Spring” are uttered? For me, I have vivid recollections from my youth of total dread when those words were followed with the pronouncement from Mother that “Spring Cleaning is to begin.” Those simple innocuous words brought about a frenzy of activity that involved everyone in the household, from grandmother, both parents, sibling and yours truly. We were a living poster for the expression “Cleanliness is Next to Godliness”

However, there were factual reasons for this obsession. Homes of my early youth in upstate New York were heated with coal burning furnaces that sent heat through a series of ducts into registers placed within the various room floors. Coal dust would slowly, almost imperceptibly permeate everything by the time Spring arrived, and during severe winters, heat was supplemented by individual kerosene space heators, leaving behind their own signs and odors of use. The “parlor room”—used for “company”—was rarely occupied post the Holidays and thus those registers were turned off, pocket doors were drawn shut, the room took on a musty odor but more heated air went to the adjacent sitting room where we spent our time.

From top to bottom, nothing escaped cleaning! Ladders were set up, storm windows were removed and cleaned before being carted down to the storage area in the cellar; windows both inside and out were washed with vinegar and newspapers before screen windows were attached; heavy fabric drapes were replaced with freshly pressed cotton or lace curtains; ceiling lights were washed, baseboards and moldings scrubbed; bed mattresses were flipped, light weight sheets and bedspreads replaced the flannel sheets and quilts; closets were emptied then sorted; boots were brushed and bulky coats were cleaned and hung in a wardrobe while woolen garments were packed in the chest with moth balls; furniture gleamed with a fresh application of polish, and area rugs were taken outside, draped over clotheslines and beaten to loosen the dust. Even the soot on wallpaper was cleaned by using a sticky substance that could be rolled into balls and swiped down the walls.

This was all planned and executed under the eagle eye of Mother, who honestly could spot a fleck of dust from twenty paces. There was no such thing as “good enough”—if one didn’t do it right the first time, one simply started over and did it right the second time. But it did instill a work ethic that has remained with me to this day.

When all was done and the house was filled with sunlight and fresh air, it was time to bring in the outside beauty of spring. Fresh-cut flowers from the garden filled our home with blooms and scents that I can still see and smell when I think about them—peonies, roses, lily of the valley, violets, hydranges, irises, and above all the lilacs, both purple and white. To this day, I love to have fresh flowers in my surroundings.

Vintage coal furnaces were eventually replaced with oil or natural gas ones, modern appliances appeared, along with better insulated doors and double paned windows. Those days of the dreaded hard manual, labor-intensive efforts came to an end but the memories of those rituals remain. Perhaps that helps explain why I am still a rather neurotic neatnick who walks around with a moist handiwipe all the time!

A Happy and Clean Spring to All.