Now It Can Be Told

I think I'm on to something with these true confessions. One of my March break projects was, ahem, cleaning the mould off the ceiling in the bathroom. Before:

and after:

I am not a terrific housekeeper, there is so much else I want to fill my days with other than cleaning so I do the minimal, I do the obvious. I had scrubbed the same mould off months ago, taking my life in my hands as the room is small, has a high ceiling and it is over a claw-foot tub. Because no ladder is going in there, it means balancing on the curved edge of the tub. Last time I did it I scared myself. I'm also a bit of a klutz, ergo one of the last places I should be found is alone in the house, balancing on the edge of a wet tub. I know it is not environmentally correct to use bleach but when it comes to mould, there is nothing else, except maybe more toxic prepared cleaners. Mould is tenacious, leave one spore behind and it's back. I'm sure one spore is lurking in a crack up there, winking down at me when I'm standing in my altogether under the shower spray. Now, however, I have devised a quick and easy way to deal with ceiling mould. I took an old swiffer floor duster handle (another confession: I no longer use swiffer duster cloths for environmental reasons), positioned an old (but still thirsty) wash cloth over the flat part, pushing the sides through the holes to grip it on. I then poured straight bleach over the flattened cloth and voila! In less than half an hour the mould was gone, with the exception of that one spore that I just know is still up there.