There’s nothing like having guests come to really light the fire under your butt. Pierre and I finished the guest room a few hours ago. My sister and her husband arrive in two hours. You may be wondering just how we managed to convert the Greg Brady room into a Zen-like retreat in like, uh, 20 hours. Let’s just say that there were some early and long mornings zoned out painting. (Seriously, if I ever paint another radiator, I might just scream. They are so boring and you kind of get dizzy staring at their iron ribs.) There may have been a few tears and there were definitely many Labatts. I like how he now lines them up in cute little rows on the window sill.
I’d also like to point out that we’re in the middle of a heat wave (there’s one everywhere I think, but I haven’t watched the news or read a paper in days, so I’m just guessing on that one). There’s really nothing like painting in a sealed room with high powered fans and beads of sweat running down your face. Good times, people, good times.
There was also the small issue of the box spring not fitting up the stair well—-AGAIN. They don’t make split boxs prings for double beds though, so this time Pierre took off the window, grabbed a ladder, and hoisted that puppy up to me. It was all very Rapunzel, but without the hair or the escape.
We’re leaving town tomorrow at first light, so there will be some silence here for a while. Then again, many of my readers are actually traveling with me to Michigan, so perhaps the silence will be okay:)