A Carnival of Dust

This seed pod of the colorfully named "stinking iris" looks like it's grinning at me with orange teeth. I usually try to cut down these pods to prevent the iris from spreading -- it can be a bit thuggish -- but I left this one. It's growing in an area of the garden where not much else grows, so frankly, if we get a few more iris there it wouldn't be a bad thing.

I got a lot done yesterday. I vacuumed, watered all the plants, did laundry, changed our bedsheets and read another 80 or so pages of Barbra. I also downloaded a few more of her songs from iTunes. Back in the mid-'80s I went to Peaches Records and Tapes in the University Collection shopping center in Tampa, and bought an album of hers called "Emotion." Barbra does not look upon it fondly -- in her book she called it a "hodgepodge" that she barely remembers making, mainly to fulfill a contract. She's on the cover wearing a pink off-the-shoulder "Flashdance"-style sweater. I listened to some of it again on iTunes and it is indeed pretty terrible -- very synth-pop. But I remembered liking three songs: "Clear Sailing," "Here We Are At Last" and the somewhat overwrought "Left In the Dark Again." So, for nostalgic purposes, I downloaded those and played them while doing my chores.

How about some dramatic before-and-after cleaning pictures?

In our bedroom, we have two IKEA-style white armoires. They were here when we moved into this flat ten years ago, and they're the closest thing we have to bedroom closets. I had never tried to move them and I've often thought it must be pretty dusty under there.

Yesterday I muscled them away from the wall and as you can see, I was not wrong.

But after vacuuming and cleaning the floor, as well as taking out that unused coil of ancient coaxial cable, I was left with this:

I totally forgot there was an electrical outlet back there. If I ever knew it.

Anyway, I did this with both armoires and they were easier to move than I expected. So maybe I won't let this job go for another ten years. I had fantasies of finding all sorts of things behind or under them -- missing clothes? Money? But all I found was a clothespin. Sad trombone.

Finally, I mowed the lawn, including tying up the leaves of all the remaining teasels so I could mow more carefully around them. I found this hardy little cyclamen blooming in one of our flower beds. We planted those things not long after moving in, and every year one or two still come up. (The squirrels ate many of them.)

I also took out an old, dying lavender bush. It was actually sort of an accident -- I was cutting the dead part out but accidentally cut the live part too. Oh well. It really was dying.

Dave and I are watching "The Perfect Couple" on Netflix. It's entertaining, but Nicole Kidman's character speaks with the strangest accent. It's not Australian, it's not English, it's not mid-Atlantic theatrical, and it's not patrician New England. (The show takes place on Nantucket.) It sounds like nothing I've ever heard. I hope it gets explained at some point.