Elbow grease

When the others left for the States, I launched into cleaning the casita (little house), where my son lives, which was appallingly dirty. He was housebound for four months while his shattered ankle healed, and hadn’t quite lost the habit of doing nothing, and going nowhere.

The unglazed tiles in the foreground will come clean, but it’s a hands-and-knees scrub brush job. The second two rows have been scrubbed but not mopped, the next three have one coat of some sort of treatment, and the remaining have two coats.

Much work, but rewarding to see the place look half-decent, at least a little.