Yesterday, we cleaned.

We cleaned like our lives depended on it, like non-existent mother-in-laws were visiting in ten minutes, like we were possessed by the Nine Demons of Hygiene. Kevin shampooed the carpets. I wielded a mop across an acre or so of hardwood floors. Bedding was changed. Scrubbing occurred, and then occurred some more.

It was glorious. Well, the actual cleaning was mostly exhausting and filthy, but the house doesn’t smell like beagle at the moment* and we finally threw out some old drapes that were contributing to the bat-cave aspect of the living room. (The man’s ex-wife had a virulent hatred of natural light, I swear. I gotta go get some plain white sheers…) 

Afterwards, of course, we were exhausted. We’d had plans for the evening, and instead we fell down and ate cheese and crackers and laid on the bed and whimpered. Dignity is not one of our strong suits.

But yesterday was awesome for a number of reasons. I found–finally! gloriously!–those little foil-wrapped Laughing Cow cheese cubes that I have a dreadful addiction to, and which I hadn’t ever found in the South. People were bringing me to them at cons, that’s how desperate I was. But apparently the Kroger down the way carries them, so life is good. Kevin and I did a small dance of joy in the dairy aisle. People looked at us funny.

Also awesome–my pineapple sage finally bloomed! It’s been so hot, I guess it was waiting for it to cool off or something. I doubt there’s any hummingbirds around to enjoy it, but it’s a huge head-high shrub now, starting to put out little red trumpets. It was a tiny little plant the size of my hand. I planted it in a small bare crack in the garden, late in spring. It’s the biggest thing in the yard now. I love that stuff.** I stood out in the rain doing the dance of blooming pineapple sage, which looks more or less like the orc girl dance in WoW. Kevin regrets not having his video camera available for this.

As we wandered around in a post-cleaning daze, to the front porch, I spotted a little dark shape in the corner of the roof, and we found a house-wren roosting up there in the corner. It was very cute.

Looks like we may finally get some fall weather, too. I’m ready for it. 

And finally, and best of all, I finally got a check from the publisher for…hell, something or other book related, I don’t know, but since I was gettin’ down to the dregs of my bank account and this puts me back in fine fettle for a couple of months, life is good.

*It’s not just Gir, or my failures of housekeeping, either…apparently several of the hound breeds, for whatever reason of coat oils or whatnot, are really pervasive on the odor front. I’ve heard this from basset hound owners as well–you put one in a room for two hours, and the room reeks of hound afterwards. It’s definitely the beagle, too–the house never smells like border collie, except immediately after he’s come in from a soaking rain and the charming aroma of wet dog is sending us all running for the hills.

**It’s also just cold enough here to be non-invasive–the stuff grows crazily, but like lantana in this climate, it can’t quite establish. A cold snap comes along every few years and kills all of it in the ground. I’d fear to plant it any farther south, though…