Dear Martha

Dear Martha,

Let me begin by telling you just how much I admire your ability to do it all. You're poised and polished, totally together whether you're thinning the Mini Danvers in the raised carrot bed, or meeting with your magazine, tv or book people. Brava, Ms Stewart, brava!

Tomorrow is Easter, no news there. Just as summer begins with the Red, White, and Blue jello, and and the perfectly grill-marked hot dogs of Memorial Day weekend, I truly feel spring arrives with the Easter Bunny. Pondering this today as I mopped the kitchen, I have decided to begin my Spring Cleaning this week. Martha, I've considered this, and short of driving down to Connecticut or Maine and borrowing your staff for a while, I'm not going to get this done fast. One room a week, Martha, and I'll be done before that Memorial Day Jello is set, know what I mean?

What room to start with, Martha? The kitchen? That's my obvious first choice - it's where we domestic divas spend so much time, right? But it's big. With wood and tile and laminate and appliances - that's a lot of work, I think I'd rather build up to it. Maybe the powder room. It's little. It could certainly stand a coat of paint, and I have a wall cabinet in the garage that needs to go up. Plus the toilet paper, excuse me, the bath tissue holder is starting to pull out of the wall, so I'd need to dig up some drywall compound and fix that before the paint could go on. Mud room? I wish I could call it a foyer, maybe then the mud would stay outside as it should. In any case, the foyer got painted last year, along with the bench, shelf, and coat hooks in there. It looks great until the family gets home and clutters it up with coats and boots. Maybe New England Mud Season isn't the right time to take on the entryway, you know?

Living Room? That could work. All I need to do in there is wash the walls, clean the carpet, vacuum out the couch and switch to the summer sheer curtains (from the heavy winter damasks.) The ceiling fan is in need of a good cleaning too, before the summer heat makes running it constantly a necessity. That's doable. I'm loathe to tackle the kids rooms until, really, they go off to college, but I guess I could tie on a safety line and vacuum. I think I can screw up the courage to take on one a week for a few weeks. But probably not in a row. There are two bathrooms upstairs too, Martha. I dislike cleaning bathrooms anyway, though I certainly do appreciate the job when it's done well. Spring cleaning one? I'm not sure how much more cleaning that would entail, certainly dusting the light fixtures and the exhaust fan grilles. Grout with a toothbrush? eh. Not so thrilling a prospect, Martha, and I know no one will treat it with the respect that freshly toothbrushed grout deserves. Maybe I'll just hit it an extra shot with the scrubbing bubbles. The master bedroom is simple. Our decor consists of a bed, two dressers and a television. 2 windows, and a/c unit, done. The ceilings are 18 feet at the peak of the roof, though. I'm not expected to oil all that exposed pine, am I? I am? Oh my. Well, this calls for some reconsideration, then, doesn't it?

Maybe I will do the kitchen then. You know, though, Martha, I've hated the pendant light fixtures in there since we moved in. In a spotless kitchen, those awful things will taunt me with their ugli-tude. They've got to go. I've already ordered a new grille for the microwave (broken since we moved in! Scandalous!) and a new cover for the control panel on the refrigerator door. New lights are essential. I've love a properly tiled backsplash too. But there's the question of colour. Oh Martha, this is hard, isn't it?

It is Easter. The beginning of spring, a time for fresh starts, and rabbit shaped cakes with custard filling, and terracotta planters with a sprouting crop of mesclun salad. Perhaps I shall spend tomorrow laying out my spring cleaning plan of action. Maybe I can put in place an ideal strategy - a Master Work, my own Homekeeping Manifesto. But what if we have a thunderstorm and my hard drive crashes and it is all lost?! With the trauma of wind and rain and lightening, I'm certain I'd suffer some degree of temporary amnesia. I'd forget to clean and sweep, to repolish, replace, repair and repaint. Maybe, in my delerium, I'd stuff my face so full of Just Born jelly beans and Reese eggs that I'd lose my passion for "just so" Vs in the just Hoovered carpet, and for forks separated by function. I'm afraid, Martha! Afraid!! I'm not sure I could handle the stress of it all!

Excuse me a moment, would you? ::Deep breath in... and out...:: Okay, that's better

On second thought, Martha? Never mind. Happy Easter. Eat some candy, maybe have a nice glass of something sparkly, we can talk about this again in say, October. I mean seriously, if I clean now? Like trying to curl your hair when it's foggy, it probably won't take. Why risk it?