Spring Cleaning! (I know it’s not spring yet, but pretending makes me happy.)

Hey, the bluebirds think it's spring.
Hey, the bluebirds think it’s spring.

I’ve decided that I’m sick of winter, so I’ve started on my spring cleaning/painting. I’ve invested in a Smart Home mop. Since I invested in a new mop, I thought it only made sense to get a brand new vacuum, as the one I currently had plays up from time to time and this makes cleaning a lot harder. As there are many to choose from, a friend of mine recommended I checked out sites like All Great Vacuums, in the hopes of reading reviews that will hopefully make the decision process a lot easier to make. No one wants a dirty house, especially when there are many ways to prevent it. I now have the perfect opportunity to remove dirt and stains on the floors that have been bothering me for a while. On a few of the fifty-degree days that snuck in between the windy, snowy, cold and/or miserable ones, I stained the fascia on the house:

More before...
More before…
And after!
And after!
Another after.
Another after.

I like painting/staining–not while I’m actually doing it, of course, but seeing the results is fun. After cleaning, there’s only a ten-minute window where everything stays nice before Wiley puts nose-prints on the window or Cam drags a tumbleweed into the house.

Speaking of cleaning, I decided to call in the chimney-sweeping professionals after considering the likelihood that I would break a body part trying to climb a ladder propped on the truck topper to access the top of the outdoor boiler flue. It was a good decision. Jim with Ash Kickers (heh) had all the creosote cleared out in minutes. Power tools are amazing. I also decided that whilst I was at it I would call in some window cleaning people to help me out as well. Might as well get all my jobs done and dusted when I can.




Two Bags Full
Two bags full.

I thanked Jim from Ash Kickers for saving me from probable injury and/or death, and also for not creosote-shaming me. Although I clean out the flue every six months, the creosote had run rampant this winter and had overpowered me and my measly, Katie-powered brushes. His guess was that the milder winter caused the fire to not burn as hot, which led to more creosote build-up. I like explanations that allow me to be (semi-) blameless (they’re rare).