Battling Dust

For everyone keeping a home clean, dusting is a required chore.  Some places in the world are more dusty than others.  My mother-in-law winters in Arizona, a desert region, and she claims she dusts more than in Kansas.  Well, I don't know where Istanbul ranks for amount of dust, but it is pretty bad.  I can dry mop our laminate floors every other day and get a visible pile of dust bunnies.  Nearly every visit with neighbor women here includes at least a two-minute conversation blurb on how the home cleaning chores are endless.  A large part of that is due to dust. 

This morning I saw my across the kitchen window neighbor lady battling dust.  She first shook her bedspread out the window,  then her pillows, her towel and lastly, her pajamas.  I don't know how much dust settles on pajamas but she must have thought it was worth it because she vigorously shook them out the window. 

Last week while having tea with some neighbor women, my friend lamented at the amount of dust kids kick up when they are playing inside.  I wonder if that is part of the problem.  Our children bounce around on the couches for a few hours every day.  What can you do but let them kick up the dust--there is no where to play outside in the winter rain. 

So, I keep sweeping and mopping (probably more than I ever dreamed I would do in my life) and try to think of all the positives that come from it like. . . . helping Aaron's allergies, being able to relate to my neighbors and add to that redundant two minute cleaning conversation blurb, having something to keep my hands busy and yet my mind is free to think, the opportunity to shake things out the window (it's kind-of fun--something we don't do in the States).  This morning I was shaking the hall rug out the window and the strong wind nearly ripped it from my hands.  I have always thought what a bummer that would be to drop a rug out the window and have to go and retrieve it.  Just a side thought.