Several years ago, I can't remember why, my family started having a spaghetti dinner at my house for Valentine's Day. It's actually a lot of fun if you don't sweat the small stuff...we have Flarp competitions, two of The Little Kids who eat an entire block of Romano, another one who eats an entire pan of rolls, 18-inch spaghetti from Central Grocery in New Orleans (which has to be cooked outside in the fish cooker because even I don't have a pot to do that stovetop) and an EXCESSIVE amount of noise. And laughter. Some really good wine that everyone shares. Then some really cheap wine that everyone shares.The problem is this house. This house is a mess, perpetually, and I started considering that "small stuff" a long time ago. There does, however, come a time (and it usually involves other people) when we have to have a cleaning. So this morning, I started cleaning. It is nearly 11 o'clock in the morning and to date...I've cleaned an eight-foot square of concrete. That's it. Now, this IS a corner of the big den floor from which I pulled up all the carpet because I AM going to acid etch it. Some day. Down the line. But I haven't done so yet so...we be livin' on a slab. Which means rugs and stuff and I pulled them out into the driveway one day last week and I probably ought to go tell the UPS man to move his ass OFF of them so I can vacuum them and bring them in. And if you don't think standing out in your driveway running the vacuum cleaner doesn't absolutely freak OUT some Center Star Church of Christ? Just check here this afternoon.
I also learned, a few minutes ago, that if you mix Clorox Clean-up, Kids 'n Pets cleaner and Bug-Be-Gone in a pump sprayer and spray down the slab and then walk off...the top will blow off the pump sprayer. I'm not making this up.
The little dogs started whining and their eyes watering so badly that they've moved outside. For the day. The big old dog went upstairs and shut the bedroom door himself. The Brown Recluse are all in the corner, wearing gas masks and plotting with the crickets who wear combat boots. I finally opened a window and turned on the unit fan after I got tired of listening to Elvis explaining the Ten Commandments to me.
And now I'm sitting here, drinking a beer because I've worked so hard, and talking to y'all. Damn good thing Valentine's Day is still six months off.
Or I might need to hurry things up.
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