The Parlor Ceiling

     The ceilings in the original, downstairs rooms of our house are eleven feet high.  In 1869 when the house was built, all those ceilings were papered.  There was a fancy matching wallpaper frieze around the upper edge of the wall and the entire effect must have been wonderful.
     Now, 140 years later, only the ceiling paper and frieze in the old parlor – now a bedroom – are intact.  That it is somewhat damaged only adds to its charm.  It has stories to tell, for sure.  The frieze also remains in the hallway, but the ceiling paper has been replaced.  Over the years it had become too crisp and fragile to save.  I love to point out that lovely, Victorian paper with its muted colors and intricate design.  The only trouble is that we have an inviolate rule in our house:  don’t look up!
     The reason for the rule, of course, is cobwebs.  And dust.  At my lowly 5’2” stature there is no way I can swipe at them effectively.  Even Nyel, a foot taller than I, can’t do it without a ladder.  And neither of us do ladders any more…
     Nyel made that ‘don’t look up’ rule and, until I had my eye surgery, I didn’t pay much attention to it.  Even when I broke the rule, I saw no problems – only the hazy glow of long-ago gentility. 
But now that my distance vision is practically perfect, the ceiling paper glows and cobwebs glower, respectively.
     So, I’ve been trying mightily to keep ‘chastity of the eyes.’  It was all working fine until yesterday when, suddenly, I got oh-so-sick and had to take to my bed.  Mostly I’ve been sleeping but when I wake up and lie there, feverish and miserable, I can’t help myself.  I look up.
     I’m hoping this bug of mine goes away quickly.  Even more, I hope that it does not leave me with an uncontrollable desire to dust those ceilings.  Lordy, Lordy!  This being sick business is for the birds.  Or in this case, the spiders…