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The Hawk's Nest

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The Hawk's Nest

Spring cleaning

Hey, it’s spring! You know what that means—time to start spring-cleaning.

I know a lot of friends will be surprised to learn I have a clue about spring cleaning. My wife will be especially surprised, but she is out of town this week so this will be our secret, right?

Now to those who doubt my knowledge of spring-cleaning let me say this: Spring-cleaning is that time of year when you clean stuff that isn’t usually on the cleaning list. See, I do know.

I told a close friend what I was writing about and he asked if this is when I finally get around to having my car washed. Well duh, that’s what the spring thunder showers are for, everyone knows that.

Since I don’t take part in this activity much I’m a little out of practice. But I do know one thing that doesn’t really need to be cleaned is my cell phone. Remember those old phones that hung on the wall or sat on a table and had a separate head set you picked up? Well, the only time I remember seeing it being cleaned was when someone was sick and my mom would wipe it off with alcohol occasionally.

However, I took cleaning the phone to the next level. I washed it in the washer with my dirty jeans. As I took the jeans out of the machine, I felt a little extra weight in one of the pockets. Hoping for a big wad of forgotten money, (it could happen) I reached in. There was my phone, sudsy water sloshing back and forth in the screen where my wife’s picture was supposed to be.

Speaking of phones—maybe I’ll get back to cleaning later, you know how that is—a few weeks ago in town I reached into my pocket for my phone and realized I had inadvertently taken my wife’s. So right away, I thought, “no problem I’ll just call my phone, she will think I had forgotten it and answer it for me. That way I could tell her I had the wrong phone, my mistake.” A perfect plan.

After I dialed her cell, my phone started ringing in another pocket. Okay, you’re probably ahead of me on this, but my first reaction was “Darn, someone is calling me on my phone when I’m trying to call my wife on my phone.”  It didn’t take me too long to figure out I had a problem.   

Still speaking of phones (I hate spring cleaning, maybe I’ll get to it later) several years ago, when all phones were permanent, my former wife suggested we get one of those new cordless phones. I gently reminded her there were two teenagers in the house and a cordless phone would, no doubt, be buried under a pile of clothes in a back bedroom most of the time. A couple years later I was setting up housekeeping alone. There were several reasons for this, but none had anything to do with phones or teenagers. Anyway, I decided to buy one of the new cordless phones. You know what? I was right; every time it rang it was under a pile of clothes someplace.

So after I washed my phone with the laundry I sent an email to my wife at work saying not to call. She wrote back saying that I should call and see if we qualified for an upgrade. Call with what, we haven’t had a land line for years.

I don’t think I have any more phone stories; darn, can’t think of any way to put it off any longer. Guess I better get back to cleaning.  

A while back, our dog came in after a good run in the rain. My sense of smell, my least sensitive of all my senses, told me the dog needed a bath. I had been out running with her in the rain to but I’m sure my nose was picking up her odor, not mine.

Nikki, our dog, is about ninety pounds so I decided to take her to one of those places where I can wash and groom her but the mess stays there.

It’s really great, there are bathtubs set up so the dog can be put inside and a leash attached to the wall. The dog owners stand beside the tub, raised to counter level just for that purpose, and wash and dry the pets. This usually only takes about a half hour and like I said, the mess that is left is not at home.

So I walked into the dog wash with Nikki, who smelled like a wet dirty dog, and a half hour later she walked out with me, who smelled like a wet dirty dog. The job finished.

Well, so much for spring cleaning, Oh wait, it looks like a heavy rain is coming. I better run out a park the car so it will get a direct hit. 

The photo, by the way, is not Ernie and not even Nikki. For some reason Ernie felt he was unable to pause in the process of bathing Nikki to take photos.

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Author info

Ernie Hawks Ernie Hawks is a former theater director who has branched into the creative fields of writing and photography. He lives in a cabin in Athol with his lovely wife Linda, and feeds the birds in his spare time.

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