“I would love to see the inside of that house” the kayaker said as she looked up at our house from the water. From the water, admittedly, the house is nice looking. At first appearance, probably owned by people who would have a respectable , not too posh, but most definitely clean, home interior. Wrong.

Looking around the living room, as I sit here, there are blankets on all the furniture , ‘cause, dogs. There is dust 1/4 inch thick on everything, the fireplace needs to be cleaned out, laundry is still on the rack from two days ago and the windows haven’t been washed in two years. In absolute honesty, my desire to house clean since Covid began is directly related to how many guests we are entertaining. So, next to zero…

Some of our kids are coming, though, to visit this week, so it’s time to make an effort, to be an adult, if you will, and clean the house. It’s ironic isn’t it? That now, at this late stage in my parenting life, I’m cleaning the house for my kids instead of because of them.

I got the new garden bed weeded and planted with seven more pumpkins. Now, through a series of poor seed starting decisions, I have twelve pumpkins. One Pepita, six Cinderella and five Small Sugar. It is probably eleven more pumpkins than we need. In October, I will likely be handing pumpkins out on street corners.

So while I have been weeding in the garden ignoring the state of our house, E has been murdering trees. He took a sixty foot tree down yesterday morning. That kind of chainsaw project would normally cause him to walk like Grandma P for a week, but he had an epidural, last month at the hospital, which seems to be helping, along with the daily hot tub treatment.

There have been days after strenuous work when he has visited those wonderful jets in both the afternoon and evening. The tub has been a very welcome addition to our life. A game changer, to quote a friend who visited the garden today.

Life is good, the garden is looking great and no-one needs to know my house is a mess. If hell froze over and there was an opportunity for that kayaker to see the interior of our house these days, she would be sorely disappointed in what she would find. Unless, she turned her back to the room and looked out the window. That’s what

works for me