Sing it with me, to the tune of “My Girl” by the Temptations:
“I’ve got housework, on a sunny day.
When it’s nice outside, I don’t get to play.
I guess you say, what can make me throw things away?
My mess, (my mess, my mess)
Talkin’ ‘bout my mess (my mess).”
If you live in Southeast Alaska, you know how precious that sunny day is, especially in the fall. People in other locales look forward to fall so they can watch the leaves turn color and feel the air crisp up. Here in Southeast we check the drains for obstructions, sling tarps over the woodpiles and buy a fresh pair of Xtratufs for wading through puddles. We rarely get to stroll in the sunshine and shuffle through crunchy leaves while admiring a cloudless sky. So when that day comes, the last thing we want to do is housework.
The sad thing is, when the sun shines, the deferred housework becomes all the more evident. Sunbeams illuminate the cobwebs hanging from the light fixtures. The omnipresent pine needles that get tracked in cast shadows on the floor, highlighting the need to vacuum. Grimy handprints pop up on the windows as if a forensic team had just dusted for fingerprints. That thin coating of dust on the bookshelf shines like diamonds in the sunlight.
Then there’s the laundry, which always needs to be done, rain or shine. Like the fabled postal carriers, “neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night” can keep dirty clothes from multiplying in the laundry basket. Even on a sunny day, the daily quota of laundry must be fulfilled.
Of course, I’m not the only one lamenting on a sunny day. School kids sing the second verse of the song:
“I’ve got homework, on a sunny day.
When it’s nice outside, indoors I must stay.
I guess you say, why can’t I go out to play?
My grades, (my grades, my grades)
Talkin’ ‘bout my grades (my grades).”
The sad thing is, teachers don’t want to correct homework on a sunny day any more than kids want to finish it. I remember one benevolent college professor who cancelled class on a sunny day, telling his students he was giving us a “gift of time.” I took his words to heart, and set off on a bike ride to enjoy the lovely fall weather. That was the day I crashed on my bike and ended up with stitches in my chin, but let’s not quibble over details.
And of course, nobody wants to go to work on a sunny day. Juneau is famous for business owners who hang out the sign, “Closed for Sunshine” on that precious sunny day. Everyone can get in the act on the third verse:
“I’ve got work, on a sunny day.
When it’s nice outside, I still have to pay.
I guess you say, what can make me toil that way?
My job, (my job, my job)
Talkin’ ‘bout my job (my job).”
Lucky for us, there aren’t that many sunny days in Juneau. You don’t have to do housework or homework when the sun is out. Trust me. Just wait a few days, and the weather will change. You can count on it. The rain will come back — don’t worry.
So, I still need to vacuum, clean the bathrooms and knock off my daily quota of laundry. Forget about it. I’m going to go take a walk in the sunshine. I’ve got plenty of time to catch up — it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.
• Peggy McKee Barnhill is a wife, mother and aspiring author who lives in Juneau. She likes to look at the bright side of life.
