T minus 2 hours

These people are coming. To my house. With the den covered in paint samples that I loathe and detest but have not managed to do anything about in the last three years. Something about having a baby or some such...

The food is going to be ready. We have a guest room where I am frantically tossing everything that annoys me. If anyone opens that door, they may be crushed by the large amount of laundry I have not managed to fold.

My one saving grace is that Erratic Lawn Guy came today so hubster won't have to sweep the patio or porch.

Erratic Lawn Guy is this ancient man (in his late 80s) who mows half the lawns in the neighborhood. He always wears a fedora while mowing. He has mowed the lawn of this house since it was built. When we moved in, he told us his prices in terms that made it clear that if we knew what was good for us, we wouldn't mess with karma and would continue to employ him. When his rates go up, I consider the amount of money I'm spending on him mowing the lawn and contemplate saying, "No, thanks." But I can't quite muster the guts. One clearly does not fire Old Joe. (Seriously, that's what everyone calls him.) At least the yard looks pretty.