SEEING others doing something useful can be very motivating.

Take the Government's hospital deep clean programme. Newspaper photographs of cleaners delving deep into the nooks and crannies of hospitals spurred me on to tackling the long-forgotten corners and crevices of my own home - the ones that haven't seen a duster since we moved in four years ago.

More specifically:

Under the beds
Since the castors fell off the bed I share with my husband, its base lies on the floor and takes some shifting. I attempted to move it, but it was no good. I had to leave it and accept that every night, as I lie in bed, the spider population below me is tripling.

The children's beds harboured a million and one bits and pieces - beads, dolls, books, and - worst of all - Polly Pocket accessories. Whoever invented Polly Pocket should be drowned in a sea of PP shoes. They're every cleaner's nightmare. I've lost count of the times I've thrown away a minuscule bit of plastic covered in dust, only to be told by my youngest daughter that it was Polly's sandal, slipper or handbag. This time was no different - a Polly Pocket riding hat, a boot and a coat no bigger than a fingernail.

The laundry basket
I don't think I've seen the bottom of our laundry basket since I bought it. It was slightly disturbing to unearth a pair of pyjamas and a couple of T-shirts for children aged three to four. Clothing I hadn't seen for years and assumed had gone missing was suddenly there before me.

Kitchen drawers
Especially the ones where everything that hasn't got a permanent home gets dumped. I spent a whole morning - yes, I should get a life - looking at radiator caps, weirdly-shaped pieces of metal, and keys, wondering whether they were crucial in some way, or could be thrown out. In the end, in fear of my husband's wrath, most of the stuff I took out ended up going back in.

Behind radiators
A prime candidate for a deep clean if ever there was one. "No wonder I can't find any matching socks," said my husband, as fluff-caked odd ones were eased out with a wire coat hanger.

Bookshelves
Don't books get dusty? I blew along the top of a few, but abandoned it as too laborious a task. Who wants squeaky-clean books anyway - a bit of dust gives them more character.

The freezer
No dust here but plenty of ice. My deep clean was only made possible with a pick and lots of hot water. One thing puzzles me - why do freezers always have loads of loose peas, when all other vegetables remain in their bags?


After a while I found myself really getting into the swing of deep cleaning. I even tackled the skirting boards.

Maybe its time I did everything in depth. Ironing, for instance - I could tackle the whole basket instead of two items a day, and cooking. I could become one of those women who bake 50 pies and stick them in the freezer.

Or maybe not. "I'm completely whacked," I told my husband, who actually noticed the shiny kitchen floor. What I needed was a deep sleep.