Anne and Fred and I had a belated holiday, celebrating Thanksgiving and Chanukah, birthdays, and new plans, new destinations. They made dinner, and I came with dessert, and though we were sorry Geoff couldn't join us, we did enjoy our evening together.
Saturday was my designated "Really Really Get The House Clean; Company's Coming" day, and so of course that was the first day of the heatwave. I reasoned that watering the garden would be imperative, because of the forecast for high temperatures, and dry winds. (Yes, the Santa Anas are back, and so is the Fire Weather Warning.) Anyways, I would just like to state, as a reminder to myself, that my "Really Really Get The House Clean; Company's Coming" day was a lot more enjoyable when I rewarded my efforts with small, regular breaks. Dishes Done... visit the sweet peas. Another load of laundry spinning... read an interesting article. Cleared off the porch table... watch something funny on the Internet. And so on. I was flitting from one disaster area to the next, all day, even past my bedtime, and a lot was accomplished without me feeling utterly beat.
Another nice thing to appreciate is how readily and willingly any of the four WAMMO will pitch in, and take initiative. Maria and I were bringing things to her room, and realizing that some changes were in order. She was happy to clear out things she's ready to let go of, and when I pointed out to her that her shelves are adjustable, she took over figuring that out, choosing a new configuration, getting tools, and making the changes herself. And while she diligently tackled that task, I kept her plushies and books company, and may have dozed off for just a few minutes. The nap was my reward for letting Maria be self-reliant, and not intervening. Good mom.
Confession: I did not need to "bring out" the paints, because they were in the heap of stuff covering our dining table, because when one "flits" from disaster area to disaster area, cleaning while taking regular breaks, there's a strong likelihood that even a very obvious mess will somehow get overlooked.
Admission: I seem to be increasingly immune to mortification, and was surprisingly unfazed by my shockingly cluttered table.
Conclusion: The paints, and other supplies, were on hand and we were able to play!
Addendum: Did anyone notice, I wonder, that I wiped down the front door, and matched about 400 pair of socks?
Happy Monday, friends. Do what you can, and when you need to, take cover!
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