It was the kind of place where after I took off my sweaty shirt I hung it in the third story, almost-floor-to-ceiling window in hopes of blocking the outside-in view through the lacy curtain while I showered, avoided the dirty floor by stepping only on my discarded socks or nearby sneakers until getting in the tub (after stowing my towel in the fire escape ladder box rather than on the as-yet-uncleaned towel rack), and waited patiently as the water pressure ebbed to a trickle for several minutes (someone in a lower apartment must have been getting a drink) but then resumed its fully moderate strength.
Before I took that Tuesday evening shower, my brother and I had hauled all of his earthly possessions from his old digs the four hours to the new place, carried it all up two long flights of narrow stairs–with the help of the landlord, who accepts cash only and offers (upon request) handwritten lease agreements and receipts for the monthly payments–and then puttered through what looked like a bad part of town and down a steep hill with a hairpin curve to a really nice, down home grocery store where Z spent over $340 to stock his kitchen.
For about a dollar a square foot, with utilities, the apartment will actually be a quaint place–once it’s cleaned. After shopping we scoured the refrigerator, several cupboards, and the bathroom fixtures; Z said he would work on the floors, furniture, walls, windows, and whatever else on the next day, after I’d taken off for home.
When M called to say goodnight, Z told her that I was providing cleaning inspiration and “leadership.” He handed the phone to me, and she asked, “Are you being anal?”
M’s question was–no doubt here–probably in reference to the countless times I’ve gotten carried away in our dwellings with cleaning projects. Sometimes when I start scrubbing, it’s hard to stop, since there’s always more. Several months–I’m ashamed of that long time span–after we moved into our new house, I realized that our own bathtub needed a good scratch. I thought about this because we’d let Drano sit around the drain and ended up with (besides better drainage) a clean spot. I spent nearly two hours that night with a scrub pad and Kaboom making that tub and our bathroom sinks look right sparkly, and loved every bit of the cleanliness.
“It needs it,” I said.
Not shown in this picture are the leveling two-by-fours under the fronts of the stove, sink, and counters:
Nails and staples hold the shower curtain to the wall:
Room with a view:
