We've had a break in the weather today and it's actually sunny and mild outside. I'd forgotten how much I like that sun thing and since this isn't supposed to last, I'm going try to make the most of it while I can.
I'm a fresh air freak. There is no doubt about it. I need windows open, a breeze blowing, some sort of contact with that unseen force that not only keeps me alive, but HEY, you as well! Air conditioning is something I fear. Hence why I left the humid mid-Atlantic and headed west all those years ago. Hence, why I still love driving along the highway at high speeds, window open and my hair becoming a vision reminiscent of Helena Bonham-Carter's from Fight Club.
France is good for me in this way because there seems to be a bizarre devotion to this freakish love of open windows. It's especially evident on days like today when entire villages throw their bedding out their windows. Foreign immigrants included.
Let the air in! Let the sheets blow in the wind! Get all those teeny tiny flakes of dead skin out of your duvet! Kill those little bed bugs with a blast of near arctic air! Burn them with the powers of sun! Open those windows and let the dust fly!
It's therapeutic, I swear. The bedrooms smell better. They look happier, if that's at all possible. Airing out the place is my type of cleaning. Just open those windows. What could be simpler?
Of course, my hair still looks a mess and I need to remember to bring the bedding back in before the rain comes, but that aside, the freeze blasting cleaning method rocks. Just what this lazy maid servant of Rapunzel needed.