Spring not only brings out the crazy internet dating in me, but also, stereotypically, the need to clean.

This year, I started with Jeff’s house. He’s going to be home sometime in May, we think, but I won’t have much time at the end of the month to deal with things. His mom’s going to do the main house cleaning, but I went up Saturday to get some of the heavier work taken care of. We want to surprise him with a house and toys that are ready and waiting for him when he gets home.

Popping open the lid to the hot tub was a little discouraging though.

It wasn’t the frogs so much as the tannins from the oak leaves that had made their way in to rest at the bottom, merrily staining the shit out of the plastic. Oak trees and hot tubs, while picturescue, are a royal pain in the ass.

The frogs were amusing though. I rescued them to be dumped into the dog trough.

They did not find it quite as amusing as I did.

After I took pictures, I got down to work, bailing and siphoning out the nasty water. I gave it several scrubbings, busting my thumb open in the process, to get as much of the organics off as I could before I introduced bleach into the mix.

It took old-fashioned sponging out with rags to get the sand and crud off of the bottom, and then I tackled it again with the bleach, probably ruining my jeans in the process. I should have thought to wear shorts, as most of the cleaning was done from inside the tub and there really wasn’t any way to not get wet.

Three hours later, and of course, I don’t have a picture for you. I was rubber-armed and wiped out, and I forgot. But I filled it back up, dropped some chlorine in there, and tested out the pump. It works, and I also learned that the water should be over the jets before one turns that part on. Oh well, I was wet anyway. We’ll have to see if the heater works; I turned it on at least.

Then it was back down the hill to strip his bed so I didn’t have to wait for his pathetic dryer to work, and could wash the linens at home. You know that the cheating whore didn’t get that far in her cleaning; gross.

My last mission was to bring the boat back down with me. I’ve got an appointment to get it serviced for him so all he has to do when he comes home is to hitch it up and go to the lake. But I was tired and the boat confounded me. I could not for the life of me figure out how to get the motor raised up so I could tow it without scraping the prop off on the road. And I discovered more cleaning to do, as there’s apparently been a wild cat living under the tarp. That’s OK; Mike said that if I needed help, to call him, so I did. I hope he can help me go get it this week so I can start working on it.

I swear; it takes three people to keep that man’s life in order while he’s gone. He’s a busy man!