I’ve been scrubbing my slate floor for two days. Two FULL days. It’s 300 square’ (I know, because I was the one who laid it back in about 1980). At that time, we made our living buying firewood from several loggers and trucking and selling it to folks who lived in the local towns of Canton and Potsdam. The rationale for the slate was that boots worn by those loggers regularly came stomping in for a chat. These guys were neither fly-weights nor Mr. Clean wannabes, and that slate floor could take all they delivered.
I remember scrubbing the floor. It was the night Bush began bombing Iraq – not W, but his father, and the date was Jan. 17, 1991. Home alone and feeling frustrated and helpless, it was just something I could do.
I know I’ve washed bits of it now and then since, but only cursorily. In defense of my housekeeping, I did have a “cleaning lady” for several years, and she dutifully swung a mop around on it once a week, although no soap was ever involved.
So what do you think? Is it time to give it a good scrubbing? I’ve been at it for two full days, and I’m 2/3 of the way done. Maybe in the future I’ll up the frequency of such good housekeeping. Then again, maybe not, because there are lots of more interesting things to do!