Six a.m., and the washing machine is already churning. Today is crazy housework day, plus some errand-running, mostly to the Goodwill to find some drinking glasses, since we apparently only possess four.
Tom installed our new window blinds yesterday, so now, amazingly, we no longer have rooms curtained with worn-out kitchen towels. This is a big step up the fancy-ladder. And yesterday I baked and froze squash-and-black-pepper rolls, made and froze a hazelnut crust for a forthcoming cranberry curd pie, won twice/lost once at Scrabble (my mojo is reviving), bought every damn thing at the grocery store, cooked Julia Child's parmesan-crusted chicken breasts, listened to the boy consider how he might adapt Flannery O'Connor's "Everything That Rises Must Converge" for the stage, and probably also did a bunch of other things that have since become a blur.
This afternoon our other two best-beloved young people will arrive. My cup runneth over.