Anyone who knows me at all, or has ever dared to pick grapes, one-by-one, from a perfect bunch, leaving the ugly stems behind, knows how much of a Virgo I truly am.

            And so, as I clean my kitchen in preparation for our move to Gabriola Island, I am astonished by the amount of garbage I am finding behind every cupboard door and the layers of grime and baked on grease. Considering the fact that for me, a sponge is practically an appendage, there can be only one explanation. Someone must have let a Sagittarian into my kitchen.          

I started at the top; the tops of my cabinets where I have created displays of bowls, platters and every interesting tin or bottle ever emptied in this house over the past 15 years. I pulled down one olive oil can that had made it to my Italian display, apparently before cleaning. Rancid olive oil is not an appealing aroma. Right next to that “keeper” was a sticky but beautiful orange and pink tin of Italian biscotti, still filled with biscuits. These adorable, individually wrapped rocks were too hard to eat, even 15 years ago when I purchased the tin. But, I put the can back after cleaning, still full. Maybe someday, they will be all that separates us from starvation.

            After scrubbing for the entire morning, I decided to move on to an easier task, the inside of my cabinets. Hah! I must have missed Martha Stewart’s episode on the importance of using shelf paper, and I am sorry now. Every shelf had to be scrubbed, and when that failed, I used my trusty can of white paint. How had I ignored the hills of white sugar and opened Kool-Aid packages. Smears of old jam with broken pieces of spaghetti cemented into them. Why do I have three opened bags of white rice? I found flour that I must have bought in another life: all bags opened and of unknown age and origin.

            My entire “baking” cupboard was a disgrace. I obviously must have felt that I would be baking just four cupcakes one day because I had kept four pastel paper cupcake liners in their original box and had a dozen vials of cake sprinkles with enough in all of them together to decorate the same four cupcakes. And that package with ten chocolate chips will surely come in handy some day, as will the interesting collection of artificial flavourings, including orange. I did find an almost full container of what might be currants, or perhaps just raisins that now look like currants.

            If there is ever a poultry gravy shortage, I will make a killing on the black market. I have at least a dozen packages.

            I filled my recycling bin with all of the interesting oil and vinegar bottles that I have faithfully saved for that day when I finally get inspired to make flavoured vinegars and oils as gifts for my closest friends. What usually happens is that I end up buying the finished product at the farmers’ market. It has been tempting at times, but I actually do tell people that I bought them.

            I have dozens of Baggies containing what appear to be herbs and spices. I am only guessing that they are seasonings, because heaven knows there is nary a label to be seen, and most have lost any identifying scent that they ever may have had. Some of these mystery seasonings are in baby food jars; my youngest is about to turn 18. I can’t throw out these jars now; it would be like throwing out their baby clothes and favourite toys. But I did empty them.

            Possibly the worst of the whole mess, was the inside of my “important phone numbers” cupboard. I had taped lists of phone numbers on top of other lists and they have been there since the boys were babies. I know this because there are phone numbers for every babysitter we ever used. There are phone numbers for the kids’ old and long lost friends and their parents, some of who aren’t even a couple anymore. There are even numbers for people I can’t remember, which greatly concerns me because if they were important enough to make it to the lists on the inside of my cupboard, I should at least be able to remember who they were. My favourite, though, is the three-number combination- lock codes, because you all know that as soon as I toss the numbers out, I will find the lock.

            Jordan has been very supportive in all of this. Not only did he find me a great product called Goo Gone (honest!) that removes much of the old scotch tape, with only a minimum of damage to my thumbnails, he is also staying out of the kitchen.

            Cleaning has given me a lot of time to contemplate the seeming contradiction in this Virgo’s personality, and I am beginning to suspect that a Virgo would actually set up this disaster zone in anticipation of future martyrdom and joy of cleaning. It is our raison d’être.