I decided that the kitchen, back kitchen tiles and hallway needed a good scrub. A COVID-19 scrub, a Mercy nun scrub or a “deep clean” as it’s called nowadays. I picked my time early in the morning. Every so often I take out the steamer for this job. I don’t add any detergent relying on the machine to do its duty. We are in a strange climate so I enthusiastically threw around a few drops of Fairy liquid for the steamer to lather up.

I threw my back into scrubbing

It would be a double whammy on any nasties that might have come in on shoes or shopping bags. It’s horrible how we feel that everything has been contaminated.

I threw my back into scrubbing. Uninterrupted I started in the kitchen, then into the hall and back kitchen. It was as good a work out as one could do. The one drawback of the steamer is that it wets the floor a bit too much. I didn’t mind, I wanted the job to be thorough. My heart rate was up and I was flying to finish before the family needed to pass through. Then it was time to dry up and rinse the floor. Oh dear, I’d been far too generous with the washing up liquid!

I slipped into reverie mode as I dipped, squeezed, dropped the cloth, circled with the back of the brush round and round

Lather and bubbles mean only one thing; several rinses with water and my trusted floor cloth to clear the suds. I started to wilt. I slipped into reverie mode as I dipped, squeezed, dropped the cloth, circled with the back of the brush round and round.

I had time to notice the cloth. It measures about 3 feet by 2 feet, has red and navy stripes, several holes, a few bleach stains and any one would wonder why I’d keep such a thing. I started to think about it.

Memories

The first memory was a picture of my son Colm in it when he was about three years old. The photo catches him falling backwards from a little chair on the beach in Garretstown. I’m there with the kids. They are all small. My mother is there and my cousin Trisha and her small ones.

I nearly cry thinking about it now. Normally I would cry but this COVID-19 life has me numbed. We had so much fun that day. Mam was down for a few days. We had a picnic on the beach.

When we were young, my mam and her sister Gretta made circular towels for our trips to the beach or indeed for after the baths at home

We had a bottle of wine. Mam had a little too much. She wasn’t a drinker and we started laughing. She was trying to put the 7UP cork onto the wine bottle. We laughed so much neither Trisha or I could tell her what was funny. Then Colm fell over and needed comforting. He was wrapped in my trusted floor cloth which was, at that time, a cosy towel.

When we were young, my mam and her sister Gretta made circular towels for our trips to the beach or indeed for after the baths at home. They were a fabulous idea with an elastic top that you slipped over your head. They kept you warm while you waited your turn for help dressing and were very modest too.

It was a time when you could bring anything home

When my children were small, I wanted to make them but couldn’t find nice towelling. I visited my brother Conor and his wife Lynn in London. It was a time when you could bring anything home. We went on a trip to Oxford Street to John Lewis and I found the loveliest soft, thick towelling. I bought a rainbow pattern for my daughter Julie, a green one for myself and my trusted floor cloth for the three boys.

I fashioned all when I came home and they served us well. The green one still lives in my swimming bag having had its fatigued elastic changed a few times. The children’s ones are reduced to one piece of floor cloth. It is at least 28 years old.

Old treasure

I finished my floor, rinsed and hung out my floor cloth with renewed affection. It’s going nowhere. Going through the memories was comforting and full of nostalgia for a carefree time. We could come and go with pleasure. Trisha came from Tallow with her gang, Mam was down from Tipperary. It was living the good life and we didn’t know it. Until this all ends, we can even make washing the floor a pleasant experience. It is still hard.