Sunday, 11 May 2008

Hoover bags

Or should that be "vac' bags"?

Dad reuses them, and PG advocated the practice when Mrs L changed our bag for only the second time in three years of living here. According to the old man there is a great satisfaction in hoicking out the dust with one’s hands, and this chimes in with my frequent positive experiences in domestic management, especially rubbish disposal. Sounds odd, but there is something satisfying in putting things in the right places – in separating, collecting, transporting, consigning, even over the relatively short distances from the back door to the wheelie bins or the even shorter distances from the dining table (and floor) to the swing bin.

When we turn to washing up we find one of the joys of my life. The satisfaction of cleansing, of making something new again, useable again. It's soothing at the end of a day spent with people or in front of a flickering screen, and it's a way of putting off more important tasks!

That last wrinkle aside, to put it theologically, it's exercising dominion à la the creation mandate of Genesis 1, enjoying the responsibility of work in its various marred glories, and yes, even washing up and taking out the rubbish can be done to the glory of God.