Gerta, my house, has dandruff.
That's the only conclusion I can come to after wiping down the kitchen countertops and finding the usual assortment of crumblies, microscopic dustballs, idgies, and yes- 'floating' Pepper dog hairs. (I think Pepper is in cahoots with Gerta.)
As I washed off the uck-ies once again (as in every time I wash dishes), I sighed to myself as I hit all the high spots and didn't look too closely in the corners. I have slid down the cleaning ladder when it comes to my old days of personal sparkling and pristine.
But I have to say..... I simply don't remember past homes being this much of a pain in the behind. Hence back to my new theory of Gerta having some type of household dandruff. When I think of it this way, all the dust, fuzzies, fine woodburner ash, and countertop yuckies start to make sense. It just keeps drifting down and floating around. And around, and around.
While in some ways thinking of living in a dandruff environment is a bit hideous, it's also a bit comforting that it's out of my control.
I think Gerta is wearing me down.