Phew — the upstairs is clean-ish. The downstairs is at least not deadly. My mother is coming to visit today, then leaving for the weekend, then coming back on Sunday. My sister arrives next Thursday and everyone leaves the Tuesday after. This has sparked a fit of cleaning, but it had to happen in any case — the kids are mostly not living at home, which changes things, and we’ve lived in our house exactly 6 years now, which seems to be just the amount of time to realize where things should be put, and which things, brought along from the old house, really ought to go. I’ve developed a plan, too, for the awkward corner of the kitchen. Apparently we can do nothing about this plan until M graduates from college, however there is some comfort in thinking that eventually the lightbulbs will have a better place to be than in the closet under the stairs behind the toolbox, the vacuum cleaner, and the tennis rackets. I think I will tell K this — it may change his mind about how long we need to wait.
M took this picture — isn’t it lovely? It’s from her print-making studio.
I’m thinking about Saturday. I suppose I should keep cleaning, but really I think I’m going to go for a long hike. I’ve got a 10 mile loop mapped out. I’ve got to catch up with my nemesis — the woman my age who can hike 13 miles a day with a backpack and up a mountain. I know I can do it — so I’m on a mission.
Sunday — gardening.
Okay — got to go.