It's Wednesday. Cleaning lady day. Of course, I usually have to straighten up so that they can clean. I do a couple loads of laundry, put away the shoes that litter the floor, hang up the jackets that are draped over the backs of chairs, recycle the pile of catalogues that's accumulated on the dining room table, put all my knitting projects back in their ziploc bags, and retrieve errant balls of yarn. My friends give me a hard time about "cleaning" for the cleaning ladies. But what I want them to do is actually clean. And that's what they do. Any knitting needle that's rolled under the bed during the week is laid neatly on my bedside table where I can find it. I just love the cleaning ladies.
Tonight the house is gleaming and the bed's been changed. It's my favorite part of Wednesday - coming up to the top of the stairs and seeing this tidy bed and knowing that clean sheets are waiting there beneath the quilt.
I'm alone in the house with my clean bed. I'm boyless until Sunday. Ron & Owen have gone camping in the Sierras. It's the annual bad boy camping trip. You know, old grade school chums and no girls allowed. And they'll do guy stuff like smoke cigars, play mountain golf, drink beer, and pee in the woods.
I'm taking advantage of my boyless status by hosting a dinner for my own chums of twenty-five years: Pamela, Meryl, and Anna. Together we are Culture CAMP (Celia, Anna, Meryl, Pamela), a name we gave ourselves years ago when we thought we needed to justify our get togethers. We'd watch a "cultured" movie or something like that (I'm drawing a blank here). Lately, we just have dinner or drinks or sometimes dinner and drinks and just gab, gab, gab. Tomorrow morning I'll set the table and distribute all the candles and candle holders all over the dining room. Then, in the evening I can concentrate on making dinner. On the menu: filet of sole, braised greens with portobello mushrooms and blackberries, and roasted potatoes. I'm still undecided on the dessert, but I'm leaning towards lemon sorbet.
O-o-o-o-o-o-o. A boyless candlelight dinner. Sounds divine.
P.S. Here's the lovely ladies I'll be sharing my bed with tonight: