The 24-Hour Turnover

Out with the old, in with the new.

Jared vacated our apartment at about 7:30 this morning, and I have since been on a mad rush through the house trying to get things ready for Phase 2 of Casa E & E's month-long stretch of guests. We depart for Foz do Iguaçu tomorrow morning on a 7:50 flight. And when I return to my humble abode on Thursday next week, I will have four new guests accompanying me.

So in preparation for Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandad, I am washing sheets and towels, scrubbing bathrooms, mopping floors, dusting, and goodness knows I need to get in the kitchen and shine up all my stainless steel appliances with are currently covered in fingerprints and worse.

I think there is always a sense of urgency in the "perfectly kept home" department when a twenty-something's parents come over to visit, but it somehow amplifies about ten times when we throw grandparents into the mix! It's not that I think Grandma would think less of me if she slept in clean, but unpressed, sheets, it's just that I've never slept on wrinkled sheets at her house and so . . . I'm ironing sheets today.

My grandparents have always amazed me. I swear you can drop by Grandma and Grandad's unannounced at any time and if they are home, which is sometimes a feat in and of itself, you can be sure that the house, yard, garden, pastures, and pool will be immaculate, there'll always be enough supper to go around, and more than likely a cake, cookies, or some other fabulous baked good will be sitting there - as if Grandma knew you were going to drop in. (Which in all fairness, not much gets past Grandma so there is a good possibility that she knew you were coming even before you decided to stop by!) And it's not only since they've been retired that things have all been so perfectly put-together around their place; I can remember well when Grandma was still working as a nurse at the hospital and Grandad was putting in his 40 hours every week in the HR office of the Air Force base. So anyway, what I'm trying to say is that fingerprints on my refrigerator and pigeon poo on the window just won't cut it for me when my grandparents come to town. (Especially when they are coming all the way down to Brasil - I don't have the "Oh, I wasn't expecting company!" excuse this time, I'm afraid.)

So, if you'll excuse me now I need to get back to my chores. I have pillows to fluff, closets to straighten, and cabinets to clean. Oh and sometime before the end of the day I need to get packed for six fabulous days at one of the greatest natural wonders of Brasil: Foz do Iguaçu. (But I have my priorities: no packing until linens are pressed!)