Saint Patrick's Day

Actually, we're doing nothing Irish today. I may drink later, but I consider that more Hoosier than Irish. It's a bourbon thing. In fact, it may be Kentuckian rather than Hoosier.

Today in the life of the brain candians, the domestic crew came in again. Every two weeks now we try to get our act together. The folks were supposed to show up around 1:30, but Katie was home and scrambling to reveal more floor space before they arrived, so I assume they were late. I imagine they were either surprised or disconcerted as well. The back porch holds an overflowing recycling bin that never made it to the bottom of the access road, a solid oak cabinet front made by a friend when we were married (but never completed--sort of our homage to the faux fronts of western establishments that were actually tents), and two bathroom sinks as well as the vanity from which they came. That bit looks for all the world like the key bit of furniture from a two-hole outhouse. Soon two Home Depot vanities will grace the space formerly occupied by these items.

Meanwhile, the guest bathroom shows a lot more tile floor. And when our cleaning crew vacuums the living room they will be working around one assembled vanity cabinet, the box of another, and the vanity top that will cover them. They've probably already kicked the faucet box to the side as they vacuumed the upper hallway.

In a mad effort to make their job easier, we took all the toolboxes down to the basement this morning. We made the bed, hung clothing on hangers or put it in drawers (imagine that), put shoes in the closet (I hope I can find them again. Thank goodness summer is coming.) and even cleared the kitchen table/desk/maildrop/grocery landing zone/put things out of the dog's reach thingie. That left the check in plain site. I figure if they were able to accomplish nothing else due to the state of the house, they'll still manage to cash that check.

So---as with some of our friends---our old domicile is getting some upgrades. We might as well do this. It's for future generations, after all. At the rate our taxes are rising, we certainly won't be there long enough to derive the full enjoyment of them.

Meanwhile, let's celebrate. A toast to cleanliness. A toast to order. A toast to improofment. A toasht to emPLOYment. Anna toasht to whaddevva we ain't toashted yet. S'there! Happy Shaint Padrix Day!