Visitors, Mopping and Love

It’s been a strange day for sure. Sat out back for a couple of hours after my son brought over his wife’s childhood friend’s dog, Bailey, for us to sit while they went to Donner Lake for the day. Bailey has not been happy with the arrangement and has been laying at our front door, whining for his human. I think I’d be crying for mine too if I were left in a strange environment with no way of communicating my displeasure.

While playing with the dogs, trying to exhaust them so that they’d rest a little while in the late afternoon and before their doggy din-din, my dog, Buddy accidentally got a tooth caught in my shorts and ripped the ass out of them completely. He was going after the tennis ball I had in my hand and missed. It was a rather close shave for my left ass-cheek. He had a rather large target, one that’s hard to to miss.

Not only did the spring hinges prove difficult to adjust properly, the damn door leading from the front room to the garage refused to completely close. Discovered that one of the hinges was broken and that it refused to fold shut itself. So the job is only two-thirds finished when it come to this particular door.

I hope to get to the hardware store to replace and install it while the two women are off lunching tomorrow afternoon.

Mary has been busy cleaning the house as we’re expecting company for the next two days. Her childhood friend, Cathy will be using our home a way-stop for gathering supplies and such, before she takes her tuck and heads for the hills for a week. This is an annual thing now, Cathy having stopped over last year too.

“I’ll let you know when I get ready to mop,” my wife said.

“Okay,” I answered from the back room.

After a few minutes, “Hey, be careful, the floors wet where I mopped.”

“Okay,” I respond.

Later, she asked, “I thought you were gonna help me mop?”

“I was,” I answered, “But you told me to be careful of the wet floors, so figured you were done.”

“You could have come out and taken over for me.”

“Ah-ha!” I say to myself, adding, “Match, set, game. No l’oeuf there.”

She finally got me off the bench into the game this evening…

Before I could sit down and work on this, I had to do some touching up in the living room. Though Mary swept and mopped the floors earlier, all four doggos tracked in dirt, drooled water spots, and furred up the place. Kind of forgot how much work having four pooches roaming to-and-fro can be.

Then while getting ready to back out of the driveway, a streak of white thread zipped across the darkening skies to the east. A thunderstorm. My first thought is of Cathy who is flying in with that raging through the our air and next Mary, who is en route to pick her up from the airport. I don’t envy either woman.

As it is, I may have to turn this computer off to prevent a possible power surge. Admittedly, I am going to push my luck on this one because I want to get this journal finished. Like I stated at the beginning, “strange day.”

Anyway, I never got to take a shower, nor did I get to paint today. Best laid plan and all that. While it is top of mind, thank you for all the birthday wishes. Mary hid a birthday card in our refrigerator, leaving it for me to find when I went to get myself a snack late in the night.

Lastly, I had a very vivid dream that has stayed with me even after I had my coffee this morning. Sometimes dreams don’t stay for long. They’re like wisps of fine mist, not patches of heavy fog. I’ve had lots of fog the last few days. Anyway, in this dream a couple went to the beach, where she stripped down and was taken into the ocean by a Cthulhu-type creature, who was going to teacher her how to make desserts.

Honest, I haven’t had a drop in two-weeks.