Faking It

There are exactly 2 times every year I actually enjoy cleaning. Well, one, if someone else is hosting Thanksgiving or Christmas.My well-publicized crappy house cleaning keeping skills aside, I am actually a halfway decent cook, and as anyone who has seen my girlish figure can attest I like to do it too. I especially like throwing the big dinner with all the trimmings and the china (most of it inherited or found at yard sales).But what I'm always surprised about is how, once I get started, that I actually enjoy cleaning in anticipation of a big day - or when six weeks of my immobility have generated roaming dust bunnies with fangs.Last Saturday I walked 10 or 15 miles around the house, picking up a bit of clutter or putting away that pile of laundry. I have no illusions that I'm anywhere near as fit as I was this time last year when I had just completed my first 12K race or that this week I'll suddenly remember cleaning can be fun. But after almost two months of being mostly confined to the recliner I kind of enjoyed faking it.