My Mom's been working like a dog lately---80+ hours in a week at times. She has a friend from Ohio visiting with his new ferret girl Nimshi. I really wanted to meet this new girl and wasn't sure if we'd be going up to visit Mom or if they'd come down to us.

So, Monday morning I'm dozing in bed not wanting to face the horror that is my kitchen and the wreck that is my house (especially the laundry that "magically" appears whenever Nick decides to start cleaning---but never finish!!!---his room). My phone rings. The conversation goes something like this:

Me (looking at caller-ID first, speaks perkily as though fully awake): Hi, Mom!

[Aside: why do I always feel guilty that I'm sleeping when she calls? I mean, yeah, I get up late....but I also *stay* up late!!!!]

Mom: Hi hon. Were you sleeping?

Me: No, just laying in bed, being lazy.

Mom: Want some company?

Me: Sure!

Mom: I thought we'd come down today and leave tomorrow.

Me (hoping "joy" has not been replaced by "panic" in my voice): That's great! Don't forget to bring Nimshi, or I'll make you turn around!

Mom (in the traditional "mom-voice" known around the world): You're sure it's no trouble? I don't want to put you out or anything.

Me: No, Mom. Come on down. We'd love to have you.

Mom: Okay, we'll see you in a little while.

We disconnect and I fly from the bed and over to Nick's room.

Me: NICK! GET UP!!!! NANA'S ON HER WAY!

I don't really know *when* she's leaving, but I know it's a two-hour drive. Two hours??? That's all I have to make my home look only slightly disarrayed????? On a Monday, after a weekend of no one doing *anything*?

I bullied, I prodded and I nagged. I got the upstairs half-vacuumed (my room and the hall, which is where the majority of the traffic is----I'm not even going to try Nick's room!). I ran 3 loads of laundry, swept the entire staircase down (much easier than lugging the Dyson around on the stairs), vacuumed the great room down stairs and prodded Nick to clean up the occasional ferret poop (we've got the catpaper in corners but sometimes they like a different spot). I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher and tried to find a little counter space in my not-really-adequate for a chef (which Randy really could be, with some professional training) kitchen.

Another load of laundry as I realize Nick has co-opted the second set of guest sheets for *his* bed. I need the first pair washed and dried, need towels for the guest bath. That's two loads right there and I didn't start with either of them, but some darks 'cause that basket was overflowing. (Does anyone in my house wear anything besides shades of black????) While the sheets were in the wash, another phone call comes in.

Mom: We want to take you all to dinner tonight.

Me: Oh, that's very nice of you.

[Aside: relieved voice as I realize that this means I don't have to uncover the dining room table which I haven't seen completely since...Spring? Or finish the kitchen and figure out what Randy could make.]

We decide to go to Longhorn Steakhouse and disconnect again. I now have to scramble for an outfit as well. My own fault for not staying caught up on laundry.

Of course, doing anything remotely connected to dust and dirt....Nick starts with the sneezing and runny nose, so I urge him to take an antihistamine. And then I regret it as it hits his system and he becomes more difficult to move than a post in hardening cement! Switch the laundry again. Empty the Dyson for the 6th or 7th time.

Finally, I feel like my house is....ah, screw it. That's good enough. This townhouse is a crap-hole anyways. It's like trying to decorate a pig-pen. I shower (!) and put on a fresh set of "house jammies" (why waste good street clothes on sitting in my house, yes?) and pulled out my diamond lace sock.

Whew. I was pooped! And as I look back on it, I realize the Power of Mom. So, why doesn't my son feel that same Power? Why doesn't the risk of my glare result in a clean bedroom and chores done right the first time?

*sigh*

[And Mom, if you're reading this, I know you're about to feel all guilty that you "put me through that. You know I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble." Yeah. Like I could sit in the same room with you, knowing it needs cleaning and *not* feel the urge to clean it up. *grin*

Besides, if I'd done my work, I wouldn't have had to go all time-lapse movement-ish to get it all done! There's only so much I can "blame" on being the only woman in the house.]

To my other readers: Mom can't wait for me to visit, "so we can sit and knit together. My socks aren't any fun to work on alone." But when I get there, she doesn't sit still for more than 5 minutes at a time! And she complains that her place is a disaster that needs cleaning---but you have to look really hard and in the crevices to find that "disaster". *sigh*

Shortly before company arrived, I returned upstairs, donned appropriate street clothes and found my wooden hair accessory Randy bought me when we were in San Francisco last year. There. Not bad.

Back to my sock. Which I've ripped back to the very first m1 about 5 times now. Last night, sitting in bed, listening to A Forest of Stars by Kevin J. Anderson, I ripped it back for the 6th time. *sigh* I need to learn to put lifelines in this thing! Or be more patient and only rip one round at a time.

Yeah. Right.

OH! I almost forgot!!!!! My Blue Kitty Designs knitting bag arrived yesterday!!!!! I haven't recruited Nick to take a picture yet, so I'll post that later. In the meantime, I bought this one, which is bag number 5 of hers! These things are soooo incredibly perfect. One project, one bag. And the drawstrings are (thus far) ferret proof!

I'm so excited. I think I even have enough needles to have a sock cast on in each of my bags! Nick's borrowing this one to hold his Blue Blip socks. I've got this one busy with No Remorse and this one is holding Hedera Helix (which I can't find a link to!!!!). My last bag is currently holding Venerable for my Diamond Lace sock. Socks! I love knitting them!

Oh, have you seen this sock?

Rivendell by Chameleon Colorworks

Does it make me a nerd that I want the pattern? I wish they were selling it solo, without the kit. And speaking of socks I'm drooling over, why didn't I know about Cookie A socks before this? I'm developing a list of sock patterns I want... I saw another sock pattern somewhere, which is what led me to Cookie A, but I can't remember where I saw it.

Oh, I know where.... here!!!! That's 'cause I was on Deb Barnhill's blog, looking at her progress in the 52 Pair Plunge (why hadn't I heard about this sooner????).

I gotta run. Mom should be back from her trip to the beach soon and I still have to finish my leftover Ethiopian food I'm having for lunch. Yum!