Spring sun heralds a new era of cleanliness

There can be little in this world that is as unrelenting and unforgiving as late winter/early spring sunshine. It seems to highlight any shortfalls in your housekeeping with a stern precision.

Windows that had seemed more or less ok are suddenly revealed as smeared, leaving you wondering how you could have seen anything through them.

Those blasted rays seem to highlight every greasy fingerprint. On the kitchen cabinets, every rogue dust ball of dog hair that has evaded the Hoover, while bringing into sharp relief the formerly invisible muddy footprints on the living room floor.

Furniture looks dusty, shabby, and a fine layer of soot that has floated unnoticed out of the woodburner has settled comfortably on lampshades and bookshelves alike.

However, it remains a mystery how a house, that had seemed pretty ok only moments before is suddenly revealed by a spiteful ray of sunlight to be in need of a serious spring clean.

Of course, with the arctic weather we have been enjoying lately, putting off such major undertakings is not that difficult. In conditions like these, the natural reaction is to huddle ever closer to the fire and, if the mood takes you, maybe make a few self-righteous lists about what you intend to do to tidy the place up just as soon as the weather bucks up a bit.

Such inspirational list-making can be almost as satisfying as the real thing and, on a good day, can convince you that you have actually cleaned the inside of the oven or excavated beneath the cushions on the couch.

Such self-delusion is all very well under normal circumstances if you can afford to wait for that burst of adrenalin brought about by a balmy spring day. But it isn’t much help when you suddenly hear that a friend of a dear friend — someone you have never actually met — will be visiting you at the weekend. And they will be taking you up on your kind offer of a bed for a couple of nights — if that is still all right with you, of course.

It’s not that I am the sort of person who requires weeks of notice about visits and the like. On the contrary. A bit of well-placed spontaneity is the spice of life, in my opinion. But my house, although perfectly situated, is small and therefore the abundant life that is lived in it leaves its mark — and not always in a good way.

When I’m expecting a visitor, I tend to go into overdrive. And I don’t need any judgemental rays of sunlight to show me what needs to be done.

I was horrified to realise that nearly everything outside seemed to have been covered in a coat of pale green mould. This required the yard broom, white vinegar and lots of scrubbing – but not too hard for fear the paintwork would flake off and make matters worse. Shrubs needed tidying and ivy clipping to dispel the haunted house atmosphere that its abundant growth had created.

Floors needed washing, dust-webs that had somehow gone unnoticed removed, and my prize Turkish rug, recently colonised by Daisy, the 12-stone St Bernard, given a good seeing-to.

Call it a trial run for the mega spring clean that is to follow, just as soon as the weather gets better. Nevertheless, my house gleamed and my visitor was delighted. It’s amazing what a little TLC can do.

This urge to purge our winter dens seems to be universal.

Spring is a season of cleansing and rebirth and having a good clean to honour it seems to have its roots in practical, religious and psychological reasoning.

Wood fires produce smoke, coal fires smut, and long-ago lighting was pretty smoky too — rush lights soaked in animal fat and tallow candles made of animal fat. Some people used whale oil, clearer burning but they still produced smoke and a fishy aroma.

In times gone by, homes were quite sensibly shut up tight to keep in the precious warmth during the winter months, thus confining the dirt and dust of daily living too? March was, traditionally, the month when a person could throw open the windows, beat the carpets and scrub away the accumulated grime of winter.

Many cultures have a religious justification for this yearly ritual. In ancient Persia, for instance, a new year began on the first day of spring, at the Vernal Equinox. Cleaning, buying new clothes and visiting with family and friends are all thought to ensure that the following year might be happy, prosperous and smooth. In Jewish tradition, houses had to be cleansed of all leavened foods before Passover in remembrance of the Israelites’ escape from Egypt, resulting in a spotless home, since even crumbs must be removed.

Orthodox Christians celebrate what is known as Clean Monday, which falls on the seventh week before Easter Sunday. The ritual begins at sundown on Sunday when believers forgive each other for their errors so that they can begin the Lenten season with a clean conscience, forgiveness Christian love. And a very clean house.

“Curtains are thrown open, carpets rolled back and people throw off their heavy clothes,” one homemaker enthused in a 1920s magazine article.

I’d be inclined to think twice about throwing off any heavy clothes just yet. In fact this year it might be best to stick with the old adage I heard in Manchester — “Never cast a clout till May is out” — which doesn’t give you very long because, by September, you may well be putting all those “clouts” back on again.