It never stops. If you wash one dish, two more will magically get dirty. If you mop the floor one day, it will need mopping again the next. If you vacuum once, you'll vacuum forever. The laundry baskets are bottomless pits and there are only two of us! There's a reason I don't wear my glasses around the house, I'd see the dust.
I did get the kitchen counters clean, as clean as that ancient linoleum is going to get. They look good in that funky brown faux wood 70s way. I almost have the kitchen table cleared off, then I can get a fresh tablecloth on it. It is covered by things like coupons to clip, white elephants to wrap, and my Furlow goggle project to hide away. Just stuff, stuff in the way. Scrubbed the basement shower, it never looks right. The guest room is next to done, and every room is shaping up nicely except my workroom. My workroom will never be completely tidy. My workroom can, however, be something other than a disaster zone ringed with caution tape.
I even filled the bird feeder. Cold outside, twenty something and dropping. The little birds need food! The wind chill is wicked.
The freecycler who wants the puzzles never showed up yesterday, I shot off an email. I haven't heard a thing. I'm annoyed. Just because it is free does not give one allowance to be rude.
I put my party on the yahoo group and have gotten four inquiries, one from an odd duck we know, a couple from folks whose names I recognize, and one from Hotcowboy69. I don't know hot cowboy and he's new to the Element 11 group. Him, I worry about. Not too much, the house will be full of friends and most importantly, Black Rock Rangers. Can't go wrong with rangers on hand.
The SIL called, apparently she got a working party together and painted and repaired the basement workroom, all new windows and lights. Very good! She wants MyLarry to come over and fix a bookshelf before they put everything back in the room. Uh, he's not here. He's headed for Vegas. He'll be back tomorrow night and right back out the road in the morning. And Saturday is my birthday party and we have guests. She should ask that parish of hers; she bends over backwards for them, they could at least cough up a carpenter. (Hey, that's ironic and I wasn't even going there. Now I am).
More to do, pieces and bits, bits and pieces. Almost time to tackle The Pit. And The Food. And The Cake.
Burning Man tickets go on sale tomorrow. Woot woot woot! Ten ayem Pacific, I will be online, plastic in my sweaty hands, waiting in the electronic queue. Wheeeeeeeeeee!