Journalistic Intentions Encore

#stressed

         When she awakened Millicent paused at her bedroom window to inhale a breath of the fresh Spring air and bask in the glow of sunlight. Could winter and its freezing snow be banished at long last for another year? The explosive sneeze that tore through her body tweaking her back and bouncing her head off the glass with a thud ended her reverie.

         Amongst the dancing stars she espied swirling dust motes. Millions of them tickled her nose as she struggled to climb onto her bed. After a few more violent achoos rocked her equilibrium, Millicent planted her feet to lean across to the window. Grunts filled the bedroom as she tugged at one of the heavy drapes. Dust ,thick as only dust left to accumulate for months can be, billowed. With the final pull and her arms windmilling Millicent tumbled backwards onto her mattress.

         Serves you right you old fool. Are you trying to break a hip? Come on, get up. You're still breathing. Go and get the step ladder from the kitchen. Take a few moments to plan your moves. You've heard about an ounce of prevention, haven't you? Oh, and do you know what you're doing with the drapes once they are down?

         Grumbling and hitting every wall and doorway she wrestled the step ladder up against the panes. Granted it creaked a wee bit in protest, but it did not buck her off. The remainder of the drapery declined to fight and soon she had a pile on the floor. Scooping up armfuls of fabric Millicent wobbled to the back door.

         So far, so good. I only tripped myself a few times. Now if I can only find the door knob. Aha, there it is, right where I saw it last. This senior still has it. Yes, yes, I will take it slowly on the stairs. Careening down them was a once in a lifetime experience and no, I don't relish spending months in another plaster cast.

         A few teetering steps later and Millicent gasped. The cold water squelched around her feet and too late she remembered the slippers she had intended to kick off in exchange for her rubber boots.

         You forgot about the Spring thaw. Where did you think all that melting snow would go? Really? You neglected to stop and take a few precious minutes to don a pair of outside footwear? You might as well carry on. A bit of water will not cause you too much distress. Mind you the boots would've been nice. I'm just sayin'.

          Trudging onward Millicent arrived at the aluminum laundry tree staked in the middle of her backyard. Without ceremony she heaved the bundle up onto the frame. Squelching and squishing she yanked each panel into their own tidy placement. Wheezing a little she then proceeded to pummel each drapery panel dispelling the cloying winter's worth of dust. Within a mere five minutes give or take, her eyes reddened and itched. A cough escaped her lips.

         Dragging out a broom may have been prudent. This hands-on approach is too much. Do my eyes deceive me, or is this clothes line developing a marked list? No! This cannot be happening.

         Emitting a drawn out screech the aluminum structure crumpled to the sodden grass. Momentarily frozen with indecision and wringing her hands, Millicent recognized the distant trilling of her landline. Years of conditioning caused her to shrug and slosh back to the house. A ringing phone commanded to be answered. Ignore it at your own peril.

         I'm coming. I'm coming. Hold your horses. I'm an old woman. I do not run for anyone. Do not hang up. I'm almost there. Now what?

         Despite her considerable effort and twisting with shoving, Millicent found herself unable to access her kitchen. The door simply would not budge. She pounded on the glass and rattled the door knob. The jangling from the persistent telephone seemed to mock her.

         Shivering, Millicent clomped down the stairs once again and sloshed through her yard. The fence gate squeaked in protest, but it did not resist her efforts to swing it open. A quick glance up and down the street revealed the absence of nosy neighbours. She scurried on frozen feet to her front door and repeatedly stabbed the doorbell.

         Answer the door you deaf cow. How can you not hear me? Hurry up! Someone might see me.

         Rubbing her eyes and shuffling as if in slow motion, Merrilee finally swung open the door. She yawned and stretched.

         "What are you doing out here? Hey, are you wearing slippers, soggy slippers? Did you know the phone is ringing?"

         Through chattering teeth Millicent grimaced and stumbled inside.

         "Could you be a dear and fetch me a towel sister? And after that could you answer the phone? It must be important, don't you think?"

         Rubbing her feet and willing them to restore at least some circulation Millicent heard her twin speaking to the stubborn caller. She sighed and squared her shoulders when Merry hollered.

         "Millie get this. Some woman is phoning around and asking if anyone needs help with Spring cleaning. I explained to her that you like to get your hands dirty, but what do you say? She guarantees it's stress-free."

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