I’m supposed to be gutting my room right now – you know, sorting through everything, tossing some, filing some – but I’m fighting a runny nose and weepy eyes (allergies). Excuses, excuses. But there is an insane amount of books to dust… *whine*

The last time I did this kinda clean, on this kinda level, was just before Christmas, when I moved the present stash in here for safety. I ‘tidy’, and vacuum the open areas when necessary. I don’t do this major clean on any sort of regular basis. I think… maybe… it’s time to grow up and do this kinda thing once or twice a week.

At least in spring. See, we have four cats, two dogs and a guinea pig and a fish, but the fish doesn’t count for this bit of discourse…

The guinea pig hair only transfers from him, to clothes, to whatever else on a comparatively large scale, considering his size, but it’s not bad. The cats are all shedding their minimal winter coats (only one went out on any regular basis when it was really cold) or, for one, her kitten coat (and she’s either still in heat, or has only had a two day quiet spell). The dogs are both shedding as well, however Sugar – being the spaniel – has long, silky hair for the most part. Little Bear – being coyshepelkhound – is blowing her coat in thick, fluffy chunks.

This does not count the hair that the girls bring home from other people’s pets. My brother has two cats, our friends have cats and dogs… there is always pet hair somewhere.

And it’s intelligent. I’ve found small enclaves of fur, armed and ready for battle, hiding under my desk – behind the corner stand, under my bed, under my bookshelves, under my altar, in my closet, in my file cabinet. They’re stepping up their plans, I can tell. There’s the faint sound of battle horns, pipes, drums, wee voices crying out “Power to the Poofle!”, and chanting in some strange dialect that I swear sounds remotely Gallic. They form little legions, and roll out across the floor with tiny weapons: spears made of pine needles, scythes made from shed claw-casings, whips made of shed whiskers braided together.

Sometimes, in the dark corners, there’s laughter. Maniacal, giggly laughter.

I’ve enlisted the aid of a rogue Dirt Devil known by “Little Blue”. He’s thinking he may need to call on the head of his clan, Big Red, but that particular Daemon is across town, and it’s now 3 AM. I picked up the Handle Enduster known as “FlopsyShakesy” and will help out as I can, but we’re out-numbered, and I think we may have to abandon the battle….

(Why do I hear ‘Veni, vedi, vici’ echoing from under the desk??)

Eeep!

(PS – as for the why – well, it’s spring cleaning but… I took half my savings for WHC – more on that someday – and bought a desk chair. Looks like the one in the MeezPhoto, only mine is black. Yay for lumbar support!)