Next I tackled the television shrine. I took down all the CDs, which weren't that filthy, having been upstairs being ripped into iTunes within the past half year; and all the DVDs, some of which were dustier than others (in what alien world would we possess "K-Pax"?); and all the VHS cassettes; and all the books. Also I dusted and mopped under the extremely attractive crates that keep the electronics off the floor near the previously flooding corner. That was filthy.
The CDs weren't that bad. I allow some lapses from strict alphabeticalness, keeping Peter Gabriel, Genesis, and Godspell together and then Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead. There wasn't much to weed, as that happened when we ripped. The DVDs also were okay, mostly because there are so few. Relatively few, maybe. I moved the books to the other side and took up more shelves with them, so the house and garden binders no longer block access to the how-to books.
The VHS tapes were a different story. I might have broken Blake's heart by removing so many from his shelf, but I can give him plenty of chew toys more appropriate than the cellophane from blank tapes or their cardboard slip cases. I kept some homemade VHS, since "Lisa and Rich's New House, Tour 2000" is for some reason not availabe on DVD, but most of them I trashed.
Whatever design genius built the television shrine didn't consider that inside corner shelves need bookends. Previous CD bookends were cassettes of the first albums I replaced on CD--Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, Murmur, Disintegration, the merest essentials--and now I stacked VHS tapes in the corners.
Blake has almost the entire right top shelf and I will tape a length of cardboard to its underside so I don't have to scrub the lower shelves and their contents every week but must only replace the cardboard. He won't have VHS cassettes' shrinkwrap or cardboard slipcases to chew on but he has plenty of regular chewtoys. All I have to do is scold him when he chews on a shoelace or peacock feather or blowcard for him to find it fun. He loves to be naughty.
He fell absolutely in lust with the series of dustrags I used. Obviously these could not be his chew- or fucktoys. He whined on his shelf, he whined on my shoulder, he whined in his box (which I then upended to trap him, because with pets, that's legal, thank goodness, and what a pain in the ass), he whined unless in direct courtship with the rag. RDC came down at one point and had great fun playing single-handed monkey-in-the-middle with Blake, tossing a rag, letting Blake nearly catch up to him, and tossing it in the opposite direction. That's the reason for a housecleaner, so whoever's cleaning the house isn't someone whom Blake expects to accompany and command.
The CD selection is unlikely to grow very fast anymore, thanks to iTunes--I wish there were a similar service for film. But I freed up some space for more books on woodworking and wiring and, ahem, sewing. I am supposed to make cushions for the eventual kitchen nook. I laugh hollowly.