I wish that it were so on the inside. The winter outside brings a chalky mess of gritty snow-melt chemicals and salt to the floors in the kitchen and front entryway. Well mannered guests and properly trained kids throw their boots and shoes into an ugly rubber boot tray that, at any other time I would not leave out in plain sight in the house, but for the drippy muck, it sits prominently near the door. On the floor near the back door can be found perfect prints of sloppy dog paws because I've yet to train the black lab to wipe her feet. And so, I wipe and mop and, because we go in and out, I wipe and mop again.
Snow-cover well illustrates my busy life these days, which may look bright on the exterior but underneath there is a messiness, a gritty accumulation of the salt, sand and unwashed laundry of a too-busy schedule which needs some sweeping up before the melt, or possibly, someone's melt-down. I'm thinking of the volunteer work I do for the school that has been successful for fundraising but has left me serving micro-waved dinner to my incredibly tolerant family more often in the last two weeks than I care to admit. I'm thinking of the unessential things to which I've said 'yes' and the subsequent unmade phone calls and missed walks with friends who are dealing with life challenges.