Weather leaves time for spring cleaning (05/15/06)

Up until a couple of days ago I was feeling guilty because I didn’t have the garden planted yet. All I have out are a bed of onions, a couple of tomatoes, one cauliflower and an unidentified cruciferous plant. Except for the tomatoes, they can all withstand a bit of cool weather. OK, so I do have three seedling celeosia in front of the house that are protected by cut-off pop bottles. But that’s it.

I have several houseplants that have made it to the porch and are waiting to be carted back inside at the first sign of frost. The rest have been begging to be let out into the warm sunshine but so far I have been ignoring them. I tell them they should be grateful because it’s been a lot warmer in the house lately than it has been outside. They don’t believe me.

Now that the weather has cooled off I am not as envious of those who have their entire gardens finished already. Between the wind and the chill in the air the plants that have already been set out are probably longing for the nice greenhouse they used to inhabit.

In addition to feeling guilty about not getting the veggies snuggled into the ground I have also been on a spring cleaning kick. This is not your ordinary “maintenance cleaning,” as my daughter puts it. No, this is SPRING CLEANING in capital letters, right down to washing walls and ceilings.

I even sorted out the toy box the other day. Granted, there haven’t been children roaming the house for many years but the last time I tossed toys I was the recipient of more, “how could you throw/give that away” wails than I care to remember.

I was surprised by what was in the toy box. There was an assortment of cars and tractors from when my brothers were little. They are both in their late thirties now. There were mismatched dishes and cups from a tea set. I found Grandpa’s baby, the doll my husband’s father rescued from the dump or wherever he got it. It needs a good bath and possibly a new body. There was a green plastic lei, a doctor kit and some teething rings.

I pitched out all the unidentifiable pieces and parts that didn’t belong to anything. Then in the very bottom of the box I found the most politically incorrect toy of them all. A cap gun. It was bright silver with fake pearl accents. I pointed and pulled the trigger. It still worked.

I used to have at least six cap pistols of varying sizes and can still remember the thrill of a brand new roll of caps. We used to go through about a half a roll of caps before we gave up trying to get the guns to fire correctly. They always skipped as many caps as they fired. Then we would search for a good rock and smash the rest of the caps against whatever concrete we could find. It made for a great afternoon.

Of course, these days people are convinced that toy guns are evil incarnate. Parents seem to believe that possessing one will assure that the child will grow up to be a mass murderer. That is a bunch of hogwash. We all had guns of some sort when we were little. Some of us even had knives along with bows and arrows or at least slingshots. To my knowledge, nobody I ever knew shot anyone - on purpose or otherwise.

Real guns are a different story. I firmly believe that nobody needs a real gun for any reason. So what if it is in the Constitution? As far as I know the thing reads, “A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” It sounds to me like it is for the sole purpose of a well-regulated militia, not for hunting down your neighbor when his dog barks all night or for murdering Bambi for sport. And all the gun owners seem to gloss over that “well-regulated” part.

Enough ranting. I still have to clean the big spotted elephant that holds all these assorted toys and then when the weather warms up I have a garden to plant even though I’d rather be smashing a roll of caps on the front porch. Care to join me?[[In-content Ad]]