My brother-in-law called from Prescott, AZ on Thursday. According to his timetable, he should reach our house late Sunday or early Monday. I fired up Google maps and determined that on his declared route, he had 1775 miles to drive. In three days? I have the feeling he won't be here by Sunday night. In the meantime, though, I have to make the house ready for company.
Surprisingly, there's not that much to do. Finish some laundry, check the status of the hall bath, run the vacuum, restock the fridge. Things I would have done anyway this weekend. After a houseguest leaves, I tidy the guest bedroom and change the bed, so there's not much work in the guest room, except make sure there's Kleenex on the nightstand and that all the lightbulbs work. The door to the guest room is usually closed, so it doesn't even get dusty.
Two people just don't make that big a mess unless we're into a major project. The most work this morning was stowing all my sewing stuff. Since I sew in the kitchen and the den is adjacent, I would tuck my sewing machine into the bottom of my desk, lay the work in progress on the paper shredder in the corner, and stand the tabletop ironing board and iron on the floor beside it, along with my sewing box, extra fabric, rotary cutting board, rulers and other supplies. It wasn't really a mess, but looked cluttery. So everything went back where it was supposed to reside and the den is pristine.
The only big task remaining is sweeping. I'm guilty of putting off running the vacuum until it is critical because the cat is deathly afraid of the sweeper. We're not sure where this came from because when she was little she was absolutely fearless. The older she gets, the more leery she becomes. We both baby her terribly, so we're probably fostering this timid behavior, but it's partly because of a couple of incidents that really, really scared her (but neither was with a vacuum cleaner). Her worldview seems to have changed to "It's a dangerous place out there" although her whole universe is 2000 sq ft of carpeted, climate controlled house! Who knows what goes on in her head.
Well, hold on to your fur, kitty-cat, because here comes the Hoover.