I did not like housework, but I loved order; so I polished windows with a will, and even got some fun out of scrubbing, by laying out the floor in patterns and tracing them all around the room in a lively flurry of soapsuds.
There is a joy that comes from doing common things well, especially if they seem hard to us.

When I faced a day's housework I was half paralyzed with a sense of inability, and I wasted precious minutes walking around it, to see what a very hard task I had.

But having pitched in and conquered, it gave me an exquisite pleasure to survey my work.

My hair tousled and my dress tucked up, streaked arms bare to the elbow, I would step on my heels over the damp, clean boards, and pass my hand over chair rounds and table legs, to prove that no dust was left.

I could not wait to put my dress in order before running out into the street to see how my windows shone.