Scuff marks, cat tracks, and stains. I no longer could ignore it. The kitchen floor needed mopping. Because I am hopping along on a cane, the Husband agreed to mop the floor. (My knees are alternating between being painful.) All I had to do was fetch the tools—the bucket and mop handle out of the shed and the mop head out of the closet. Problem was we had no mop head. Sigh . Snap! Light bulb. I had the answer in my hand. The cane! The Mama's cane, actually. She rarely used it to get around. What she did use the cane a lot for was shining the kitchen floor. She threw a rag on the floor and danced it around with her cane. Yup. Like mother, like daughter. I dipped a rag in a bucket of vinegar, threw it on the kitchen floor, and danced it around the worse parts with the cane. Ha! I'm quite late this week for ABC Wednesday . As the saying goes, better late, than never. Which the latter I thought it would be for the letter M. Seeing the doctor about my knees this morning got