Four days and giving up

Here I thought I had everything under control. When the spectre of Bill was "sometime next week," I had plenty of time to swamp out the ol' homestead and whip things into shape. Now Bill's plan is to drive here Tuesday, and I am overwhelmed by the detritus overflowing every horizontal space in the house.

There's knitting spread out on the coffee table, gardening seeds scattered on the bar top, tools covering the dining table, canned goods stacked on the kitchen island, files and "to-be-filed" papers piled on the desks, eBay inventory heaped on the guest bed, library books cluttering the sleeping bed, toiletries taking over the bathroom counter, all manner of kitchen stuff littering the countertops, and dust bunnies EVERYWHERE. There are also the drysophila--tiny fruit flies--swooping around, as there are ripening tomatoes in a bowl in the kitchen. Typical for summer, but annoying.

I am a terrible housekeeper.

What have I been doing all summer? I've read many books, watched plenty of Netflix movies, puttered around my container garden, exercised daily, cooked sporadically, walked and played with the dog, and generally slothed around. It shows.

Crunch time. I have to keep in mind that Bill is also a clutter-slob. When he comes home, there will be a finite time that the house will stay "clean," and then his stuff will start taking over as well. His seabag will lie on the living room floor for about a week before I ask him to move it. His socks will litter the bedroom floor, I will be tripping over his boots and shoes, and his late-night snacks will leave dirty dishes all over the house.

So, I'm not really feeling that guilty about the house. Bill will be more appalled that the weeds have once again taken over the yard, because I haven't been out there weed-whacking daily. The vines are twining through the porch railings and the barbeque, the deck needs painting (again!) and I haven't done a thing about any of it. Oh well.

I'll clear off the clutter, take out the trash and vacuum the floors. I'll clean the kitchen and bathroom. I'll change the sheets and chill the beer. I'm not going to make myself crazy at this point.

If he asks, I'll remind him that I went to Illinois and dealt with his dad's legal and medical issues. I represented him at the family reunion. I paid the bills. I refinanced the house. I researched and bought a car. I lost 17 pounds. I visited a sick friend in Pennsylvania. I sold a lot of stuff on eBay. I picked and froze beans and blackberries.

After 27 years, he'll recognize the rationalization immediately. Hopefully, he'll just be so glad to be home, it won't matter.