Gritty Fingers

I am spending the evening having a paper purge: everything seems too important to throw away, but I have to make space for Offsprog Two and all her stuff, for she is coming home to roost for the summer.
The first instalment of stuff is unloaded and stacked in their bedroom and on the chest of drawers in the living room.
If I don't get rid of at least half of my 'important papers', the house will be unbearable.
I had thought the house was clean and dust-free but there are sneaky drifts of the grey stuff under the kitchen table and tucked under a pile of receipts waiting to be filed (next job).
My hands are sticky and gritty and itchy but the house looks a lot better and I have another hour's ruthlessness to go.
I'm tidying along to  the music of A Bird and a Bee, whose mysterious harmonies are lifting my spirits, which have been feeling distinctly post-viral.