Don’t have a mattress pad yet for one of the new futons, need more blankets, no hurry, we’ve got till December 22 before the rooms have to be ready for the kids.
(Phone rings.)
I haven’t met my nephew Garrett’s new wife yet; they got married right around my second surgery, it involved a multi-hour drive from the airport, and the reception was held out in the sun. Strike three, I was out.
Michelle assures me the bride is a peach.
My little sister, on the phone an hour ago scouting ahead for the couple and her new daughter-in-law’s sisters, said that the young’uns’d like to come to San Francisco after spending Thanksgiving with the girls’ aunt in Reno, and what’s four more hours on the road, right? Would we like a visit? Could they come? For a few nights?
Heck YEAH!!!
Oh. (Shhhh…) Suddenly that yarn and project sorting/clearing/putting away/blanket shopping/carpet cleaning/scrubbing/you name it/ is on the fast-forward list. Could we repaint the house and redo the driveway while we’re at it? No?
The house, of course, is not what it’s all about. We’ll do our best, they’ll be patient with the rest.
…I wonder where I put the pictures from a dozen years ago of Garrett and his brothers and our kids splashing together at Stinson Beach. I had knitted an afghan that was a picture of a beach, for someone else, and when the film came back, I had accidentally double-exposed it. I could not possibly have superimposed the knitted tide on the real one if I’d tried, but by not trying, there’s John, foot held high in glee, about to stomp on the incoming knitted (and the real) water…
I can’t wait!