AN OLD "CULT"

Evening Post, Volume CXXII, Issue 132, 1 December 1936, Page 15

AN OLD "CULT"

"HARDY ANNUAL"

SPRING CLEANING THE HOME

"There are people who may be' termed casual converts to the spring- [ cleaning cult, and it is they who are \ the best judges of the whole philosophy and import o£ the frenzy," states a writer in an exchange. .. "Such people—or women, to^be quite j specific—-do not deal with the matter las a rite, in the manner of wholeI hearted zealots; for they do not adopt (Method. In other words, they do not cover the furniture with dust sheets, and take all the pictures down, as all the best authorities on household management advise; but, going into the siting-room on some lady-like, supervising business on a sunny morning, when the sap and energy arc rising in all nature, one such as this will find a cobweb placed on high as a sign, an j omen, a call. Down comes that funereal cobweb from the wall, and, dying, drapes itself mournfully over a picture; down comes that picture, and is dusted on to the floor; down come all the pictures. Next the floor is polished, and from this humble kneeling position the neophyte to the cult sees more grey emblems behind the curtains; down come the curtains to be washed; the windows are cleaned, and so on and so on. . . "That first spying of the cobweb was the moment of revelation. Cobwebs are emblems of mortality and decay, the laissez faire attitude of life. They arouse all the antagonism of warriors who believe that life gives of its best to those who don't take things lying down. This, then, is the great truth about seasonal cleaning, vouchsafed to the latest and most humble convertthat it is symbolical and allegorical of j humanity's brave efforts to keep defeat and death at bay. True, there are certain superior heretics who avow that it is the slavish, yearly routine of conventional people—a racial custom, the following of the mob mind. But all true women, and even incidental converts, know that these poor souls are definitely eccentric, unhappy opponents of a grand elemental urge. For it is safe to affirm that the original cave woman said to her children. 'Come along, throw all these smelly bones outside, and let's start all over again!' when the sun appeared over the grim horizon once more, and her husband was safely disposed of ahunting. "I saw a cobweb in a porch the other day, and went through the whole satisfactory cycle. Like the Scottish knight who nobly said, 'I'll lay me down and bleed awhile, and then I'll rise and fight again. .. .' I had to take intervals of sitting down to breathe awhile, and during these spells I took reconnaissance, every time finding fresh fields wherein to battle. But I' gleamed as I thought of all the boundless afternoon wherein to finish- this job, and perhaps start the inside room. Being only a casual, I took a lunchtime interval and lay down to read the paper. I woke up about 4 o'clock, and, like all people who catch themselves out, I felt annoyed. I looked viciously at the semi-shining porch, and hissed between my teeth: 'There s one thing—when this place is finished, it need hardly be touched for a month or so, and then the most indifferent mopping will do.' So that's a secondary truth about spring-cleaning; it's not done by the world's workers—but by "ipsyish and unconventional people, who hate work so much that they do it in one fell swoop, reserving the rest of the year for gaiety and dreaming. MRS. BEETON SHOWS THE WAY. "I shall be an enthusiast next year, so I spent the rest of the afternoon reading Mrs. Beeton on how to do the job properly. She is a zealot if you like; not only does she advise changing curtains and beating carpets, but she says, as to a sister, 'It is hardly necessary to repeat that on this occasion every article of furniture is to be gone over.' "How those prosaic directions to I change the curtains must work the films of memory in many, who spent their childhood in colder lands; how intimate and secure the world seemed when the firelight flickered on Ahe cosy red velvet curtains of winter—a fit place for dreaming; and what gay hope there was of carrying those dreams out when the chintzes and colours and cleanliness of spring made a sort of melody within to harmonise with the newly alert world without. The whole affair, for Mrs. Becton, is so lyrical and satisfactory that she joyfully points out that, as winter approaches, the process of scouring and cleaning is again necessary, and must be gone through, beginning at the top. and going through 'the house. down to the kitchens. When I read this extraordinary proposal I found myself propounding an Alice-in-Won-derland proportion sum: 'If I clean half a porch in a half-hearted manner, and sleep for half a day, \for how long shall I sleep if I clean the whole house whole-heartedly, both spring and autumn?' "The answer, I take it, is that not only is sleep assured at night for the whole summer, but that the accumulated reaction from work during the whole year culminated by the autumn cleaning will assure me the right, and the inclination to behave like a dormouse during the stormy winter—a thing that I have always longed to do! 6n the one-woman one-job principle I claim this right on behalf of the Guild of Ardent Spring-cleaners, with the further provision that sundry heretical drones be appointed during the period to administer cups of tea and change library books during such times as we choose to wake up.