According to the various flooring manufacturers, different types of floors require different and highly proprietary combinations of secret chemical ingredients for safe and effective cleaning. Any deviation from using the recommended products could void your warranty, and your floors will look like you live in a barn. In fact, I’m beginning to think the average barn has cleaner floors than I do. I try very hard to keep my floors looking clean, and with the daily challenges of a geriatric dog and a geriatric husband who tracks in gardening debris, it’s not always easy. I can’t imagine the stress I’d be under if I had kids in the mix too.

Both the front and back door entrances to our house are ceramic tile, but after a few steps you’re on hardwood laminate. With the house oriented in an east-west exposure, our floors catch the sunlight in both the morning and the afternoon. While this could be construed as a good thing, it does mean I have to keep on top of footprints, dust, wandering dog kibble, and kitchen cooking woopsies. Otherwise, I will be considered a bad housekeeper and, depending on who witnesses my shortcomings, a bad wife. This is a bit of a problem because I hate cleaning floors. Cleaning bathrooms? Kitchens? No problem. But floors drive me crazy.

In a vain attempt to conquer my flooring challenges, I have accumulated an impressive collection of mops. The assorted Swiffer inventions are supposedly designed to solve all our floor cleaning problems, but they are nothing short of useless. Nonetheless, Procter & Gamble has made bazillions of dollars trying to convince us otherwise. The smell from their wet floor cleaners almost made me sick, and created a further sticky mess that needed to be dealt with. Does anyone remember or still use (please tell me you don’t) Mop n’ Glow? That genius invention simply wet and waxed the existing dirt deeper into the floor, creating layers of sealed gunk that eventually meant you had to replace the floor or use dynamite to get rid of the buildup.

About a month ago, I ordered a 24-inch-wide dust mop from Amazon (I couldn’t find one in a brick-and-mortar store) for quick cleanups, and I love its wide sweep. I have a smaller one with a soft, flexible head for baseboards and a fluffy one on an extendable handle for reaching high corners and ceiling fans, but nothing does ceiling fans better than a damp microfibre cloth and elbow grease.

Taking Inventory

My current assortment of mops and cleaning devices includes a steam mop, various types of spray-and-wash mops, dusters, and several vacuum cleaners I’ve accumulated over the years. In addition to having an upright vacuum cleaner on each floor (I’m too old to haul them up and down the stairs), I invested in the famous Dyson V15, which promised to make all my dreams come true. All it did was draw attention to how dirty my floors were/are, thanks to its sneaky green laser light shining from the head—a shaming spotlight on each tiny dust bunny and particle of debris I own. All it lacks is a siren.

If you’re considering investing in a high-end Dyson, there are two things I dislike about it, apart from the laser light, which has its pros and cons. First of all, you must hold your finger on the ON button the entire time you are operating it, which can cause trigger finger fatigue—perhaps that’s just me. Secondly, the head is a mere nine inches wide, and as we all know, nine inches is barely adequate to get the job done! That means I have to make more swipes back and forth than I would if the head were 24 inches wide. I realize the narrow head makes it easier to get into small spots, but I would prefer using one of their multiple attachments for smaller corners and benefiting from a wide 24-inch sweep to finish faster. I wonder if I should email James Dyson? He seems like a reasonable guy; he might appreciate my suggestions on how to improve his invention.

In the spring, I thought I’d make life easier for myself by purchasing one of those self-propelled, round robotic vacuum cleaners. I naively envisioned it quietly travelling around my kitchen and living room while I sat back in my La-Z-Girl and watched reruns of Fisk. Maybe it’s because I ordered a no-name instead of the more expensive brand-name, but it’s basically useless. I couldn’t figure out how to program the thing, and needed a lesson from hubby’s daughter to set it up. It eats lamp cords and mounts the dog’s dinner service like a Sherman tank, where it chokes and screams to be put out of its misery. Not helpful.

Since a floor-less house is not feasible, I’m beginning to see the merit in having a house with old-fashioned dirt floors. The buildup of dirt would only strengthen the floor underfoot, and no large inventory of vacuum cleaners or mops would be required. A sweep with an old-fashioned corn broom could be employed from time to time, and I can live with that. The alternative is to move into a house without windows, so no sunlight comes in to expose all the dust on my tile and hardwood floors, and that’s too depressing to contemplate.

At the start of the pandemic, I went on a cleaning frenzy and discovered I had a shameful Costco-sized inventory of cleaning products, most of which were unnecessary and even dangerous. To read about that little adventure, check out: When does too clean become too messy? My predilection for accumulating cleaning products (two upright vacuum cleaners, one Dyson, one robo-vac thingie, and countless mops and cleaning products) could lead you to think that my house is pristine. Sadly, it’s not. Even though we’re only a 2-person, 1-dog household, it seems the floors need to be done almost every day, and the dust accumulates faster and deeper than a certain politician’s lies.

Sometimes I think living in a tent might be easier, but that tent would have to be in a warm climate, and Canada unfortunately, does not qualify. I guess I’m stuck here with all my cleaning products and an infinite supply of dust and dirt. I already have someone come in to help do a cleaning once or twice a month. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t had cataract surgery; then I wouldn’t see all the dust bunnies and oopsies. I’m open to better suggestions on how to clean up my life.