Home > Random Thoughts > The Art of Dusting…

The Art of Dusting…

I look around my home and survey the walls.  Ten foot ceilings, pictures up high.

I hate to dust.

It always collects quickly and in clumps in our home.  And I’m allergic to it.

I pull out my FlyLady duster.  They really are pretty.

Giving it a fluffing shake, I take to reaching as high as I can to catch the dust clusters hanging on pictures and knick-knacks I put up high.

The clumps are resistant and cling to their perches.  It is time to re-fluff the duster.  I take it outside, shake it and then head for the hair dryer.

I remember complaints people have had about feather dusters, just pushing the dust around.  I find my Sharper Image hair dryer and plug it in.  Its quiet and warm hum compliments the flow of the feathers as I pass over each one.  A gift from my brother and the best hair dryer I’ve ever owned.  Purple ostrich feathers dance before me like ocean waves.   I know that most people do not consider that there are many kinds of dust.

There is no typical standard for dust.  Therefore, there is no consistent standard for the performance of a dusting tool either.  I know that in our humid area, in an older home, and with an A/C that seems to be sucking up attic air at times, our dust is a “sticky” kind.

I turn to the window and notice the sun beam blazing through, lighting up dust sparkles in the air.  Our baby cat is staring into the beam too, rearing up and batting at fibers floating there. 


Even the one ozone machine I have does not seem to help enough in this place.  I remember dusting in my home growing up and I know the kind of dust I face today is much different.

Each feather blooms under the ionic heat and the fibers fluff out.

The FlyLady duster is ready.

I head back to the wall and twirl my duster.  Some clusters catch, some fall, some remain clinging.

What a ritual every week, this dust and I.

I gather the clumps I can, head to the door and bless the world.

Categories: Random Thoughts
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