Dust

(Originally published April 25, 1984)

I guess dust has affected our lives ever since God reached down for a handful of dust and created man. Soon after He condemned the serpent to crawl on his belly forever and from that time to this, woman has spent a good deal of her time with a feather duster in one hand and some kind of broom in the other.

I remember reading in history books about how the pioneer women dusted and swept the hearth and kept the home fires burning while the men all dusted their boots and headed for California. The gold dust fever had bitten them and many died still dreaming of finding their fortunes in the untamed west.

Somewhere in the back of my memory is a mention of the dust bowl and if you've ever lived in or crossed across Kansas, no doubt, you've seen the results of deadly dust storms.

For gardeners, a lot of time is spent in controlling insects and some gardeners feel it is essential to dust the vegetables to keep from being plagued all year. Years ago on the farm, I delighted in watching the chickens flutter their feathers through the dust in order to rid themselves of mites.

A dusting my mother practiced was on the seat of my blue jeans whenever I misbehaved. A method still used by parents today. As a young married woman, some of my most vivid memories are of the day the coal arrived to be scooped or dumped into the coal bin. I would prepare the house by putting dampened towels over all of the furnace ducts and on the basement door to try to keep the choking, offensive coal dust from filtering through. Some always made it and I've spent a lot of time cleaning up the black dust. Wives of concrete workers contend with concrete dust in the same way and washdays are always a challenge for them.

A dangerous dust was turned into dollars when people sold small bags to collectors everywhere after Mt. St. Helens blew her top a few years ago. Now I've cussed dust, discussed dust, and personally have no lust for dust.

There's a ritual handed down from generation to generation of women that we perform at least every fall and spring. The dust bunnies accumulated dust and the dust streaks disappear in a cloud of dust behind brooms and dust rags, swept into dust pans and sucked up by the dust buster. When the dust all settles, we will stand in our dust caps and aprons, victorious over dust once again and able to pass the white glove test for the rest of this week, anyway.

Till next week - well, that's another story.

-GRANNY