My vacuum cleaner transforms my house into a feel-good oasis.
That’s what packaging of the new vacuum bag said anyway.
I think I need more convincing.
The bag came with a sealed plastic packet of tiny gel balls, much like the ones that swell up to look like oversized frogspawn when you soak them in water but which are almost invisible when put round cut flowers (and covered with enough water).
The instructions read: put vacuum bag into vacuum, open packet, scatter balls on the floor, vacuum the balls into your vacuum and your house into a feel-good wellness oasis.
What actually happened is I followed the instructions and instantly wished I hadn’t.
It appears the vacuum pearls advertising works better than the vacuum pearls themselves…
The promised magnolia glade complete with swirls and glittery stars turned out to be the kind of headache-inducing perfume the air fresheners in shopping centre toilets have in them.
If the instructions had said, “pour balls into empty vacuum bag” I would have had a chane to smell them and could have emptied them out again. Instead, I’d chosen to scatter them all over the carpet on the landing, on a day when the landing really (really) needed vacuuming. The carpet was covered in dog hair and people hair and the pocket fluff and tissue remains I pick out of the washing before I hang it up.
Like I said, there was a good reason for vacuuming on that day. **
At least, there was until I’d vacuumed all the balls up, and then all the grott was in the bag with the smelly gel balls, and I didn’t want to stand over the wheely bin and fish everything back out again (I’d love to add “in the rain”, but it actually wasn’t raining, I was just lazy/a wimp), so I left it. I finished vacuuming the rest of the house and had to open all the windows to let the
smell wellness oasis out.
I can’t take that much oasis in one go.
* (Yes, obviously I should take the tissues out of the pockets before I put the clothes in the wash, but my world doesn’t always work like that).
** We’d binned the vacuum bag week or so ago, which meant when I wanted (=needed) to vacuum, I couldn’t because we hadn’t been shopping anywhere other than our nearest mini-supermarket yet.
DB and his mother bought the same model of vacuum cleaner a couple of years ago, so we asked her if she’d got a spare we could have. She didn’t, but promised to buy us some on her way home.
She did, saving me a trek out to wherever sells vacuum bags, and afterwards I did have a vacuumed house, which I suppose has oasis tenancies, so I can’t exactly complain, but I’m not sure I enjoy vacuuming anymore…)