This morning, I noticed a fine layer of cat hair on two-out-of-three couch cushions. Right about that time, a dog hair tumbleweed drifted across the wood floor and came to rest at my feet.
When I grabbed my water bottle from the fridge, I noted the lack of food suitable for entertaining. My cupboards are likewise bare.
On the way out the door, I made a mental note of the dirt and grime coating the table and chairs on the porch as well as the thick layer of dust currently residing on the wicker.
Porch Night is tomorrow and I'm really not all that ready to roll out the red carpet for my friends, is what it all comes down to.
At any time in the past several years, this would be bothering me to the point of distraction. Today? Eh. I'll get around to the grocery shopping and to the cleaning and to the food prep, you know, eventually.
And, we'll all have a great time despite the fact that there will still be a hairball lurking somewhere just out of sight.
We'll relax in comfort on the wicker furniture, sip lazily from wine glasses and margarita glasses and beer bottles. We'll compliment each other on the fabulous food and catch each other up on the recent doings in each of our households, and; I will unwind in the company of women who also have a sink full of dirty dishes waiting for them back home, and, who really aren't all that worried about it.
Which, is really what I always envisioned the spirit of Porch Night to be.
I'm just sorry it took me so long to embrace the spirit, myself.