The place has not looked this good for 106 days.
That’s how long it’s been since my foot surgery, when I panic-cleaned for a week.
I know. Even I am shocked by this. It’s been since Thanksgiving, 2019 that company has crossed our threshold. Prepping for visitors is hard work. Even if they are people who know you well, and don’t really care about how the place looks, you still care.
So you sweep, mop, dust, polish, put stuff away, and try to turn your house into a cross between a five-star hotel and modern museum. It just needs to last for the duration of the visit, and you can go back to your old lazy, slob-comfy self.
In my case, my niece is coming, and doing better at housekeeping is not a big stretch. She has her hands full as a teacher, dog and cat mom, swim coach, after-school tutor, and owner of an old house where the end of one project means the next dozen or so are still waiting. I understand the commitment necessary in maintaining an aging abode, as my house is 40 years old. Her house is almost 60 years old, and while it has a lot of 1960s charm and quirk, it also has a lot of 1960s issues. She grew up with parents whose idea of clean would not have passed muster at the local trash dump. Her siblings consider things tidy when they can maneuver around the piles, rather than put things away. So the bar isn’t exactly set all that high.
But we will enjoy the weekend; she is heading to the hotel where my brother and his family are staying, to enjoy the amenities for the day. As a teacher, she has earned a little rest and a chance to put homeowner and work issues aside.
And I promise to keep the house tidy for at least one additional day after she leaves. Just to prove I can.