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Illustrated by Valerie Rambach
Spring Cleaning was a ritual that our neighbors and we performed every March or April, depending on the date of Easter. How I dreaded the work that we did! Cleaning went on for a week. Each room was literally stripped from top to bottom and washed and polished. The upstairs bedrooms were first on the schedule. Beds were stripped to mattresses and coil springs. Pillows were laid on an old sheet on the roof to air. Curtains were removed from the windows, doilies from the furniture and pictures from the walls. Room-sized rugs were rolled up, lugged out to clotheslines, and draped to await beating with a metal rug beater. I really disliked this chore. We had a dustpan carpet sweeper, which only removed surface dust. Whatever had penetrated the fibers during the year, had to be removed outdoors. Arms ached from hitting the heavy rug with the thin wire beater. Mom would check periodically, with a swipe or two, to see how well I was doing. As long as she could raise a smidgen of dust, I had to continue beating. Bedding and curtains were taken to the basement for washing. Curtains and doilies were washed by hand. Taking them outdoors, they were put on wooden curtain stretchers. Many times fingers would slip and end up being punctured by the sharp pins that filled the opening of the stretcher. Having dried in the sun, the curtains would be crisp, but the doilies would be very stiff from the heavy starch that had been boiled on the stove. It was my job to clean each coil of the metal bedsprings. Mom would busy herself brushing the ceilings with a broom, over which a clean white cloth had been tied. The walls were wiped down with a damp cloth. Special care was given to spots or extra soil. Washing windows was a joint effort. We had very gentle sloping roofs on the front and back of the house. In those rooms, I would get out on the roof and do the outside of the window, while my Mom did the inside. In the center room, there was no roof. Mom would sit on the sill and from the outside gradually worked the window up and down until the surfaces had been cleaned. Floors were washed, on our knees, with a bucket of hot sudsy water. When they had dried, the rugs would again be lugged up the stairs and unrolled onto the clean floors. This was a process! Furniture had to be lifted and shifted as the rug was finally pulled into place. For some reason removal of the rugs was always easier. Beds were remade. Curtains were hung on windows that sparkled. Furniture was polished. Doilies returned to the dressers and bureaus. Incidentals took their places on the stiff doilies. Spotless pictures and mirrors were returned to their places on the walls. The same careful attention was given to the bathroom. Porcelain fixtures were scoured, walls were washed, and the floor was scrubbed. After two days the upstairs passed my Mom's final inspection. Cleaning continued with the staircase. We removed the metal rods that held the stair rug in place. The rug was then rolled and taken to the lines for its turn with the beater. Each stair and the spaces between each picket were washed. The rug was only replaced after it passed Mom's inspection. There was a reception hall, living room and dining room to face the onslaught of my Mom's cleaning frenzy. Living room cushions were taken outdoors and brushed with a whiskbroom. They were then left to air. Upholstered furniture was rubbed with a damp cloth to remove surface dust. Doilies from backs and arms had taken their place on the stretchers in the sun. Walls and windows followed their upstairs counterparts as we continued to wash with vigor. Each room had an archway, in which a diamond shaped pattern had been inlaid in hardwood floors. These floors were my Dad's pride, since he had laid each pattern, when he and my Uncle built the house. The upkeep of these floors was, by far, the most exhausting work of all. It was my chore to wash the floors. Then my Mom, with a soft cloth, applied an even layer of Johnson's Paste Wax to the floor. Once the wax dried, she used a hand buffer (which I couldn't even push) to remove the wax. She always ended up with a beautiful, lustrous finish. How she managed to push and pull that buffer for so many years is almost incomprehensible. Those floors really did my Mom in. Dining room chair seats were brushed. The buffet and table polished. The china cabinet was emptied and each glass and dish had to be washed. My fingers shriveled from the hours they spent in a sink full of hot soapy water. Lace paper doilies were carefully placed on the shelves of the china cabinet. China could now be returned to its' home. Doilies and a lace tablecloth added the finishing touch. Every day dishes and pots and pans escaped the sink. The sparkling glass doors of the cupboards allowed new-bordered shelf paper to show through. Dishes, pots and pans, spices and canned goods were all returned to immaculate cupboards. I really disliked cleaning the cupboards, I still do. Soot was carefully removed from a large coal stove, that stood imposingly in the kitchen. Mom cleaned the top with a product; I think was called Black Cat's polish. I defrosted the small square freezer section of the refrigerator. Bins and shelves were removed and it was washed inside and out. A last minute burst of energy carries us through the final phase of our endeavor. Mom washes the windows and I scrub the linoleum floor. Freshly laundered, starched, and ironed print curtains made from chicken feed sacks are carefully gathered on the curtain rods. New homemade carpet runners are laid on the floor. It's a sight to behold! Everything smells fresh and wonderful. The clean curtains, polished furniture, and waxed floors emit an essence that blends into a wonderful fragrance that can never be forgotten. All that remains to be done on Saturday is the hosing of the porches. With a broom dipped in hot sudsy water the porches are swished to remove winter soil. Banisters are washed down. Metal chairs are brought out from the cellar and washed and hosed in the yard. After the porches have dried, and the furniture is in place, faded homemade carpets from the kitchen are used as runners in front of the chairs and doorways. Spring Cleaning has officially come to a close. |
