Turns Out, a Police Raid Provides An Excellent Incentive to Clean the House

Ok, it wasn't a raid, exactly. This morning, when Hugh left the house, he accidentally left the back door unlatched, and, at some point, Boomer must have nudged it open, setting off the alarm. Hugh was on a massage table, I was in a Board meeting, and, so, when neither of us answered the call from the alarm company, the local police department was notified. Two of Petticoat Junction's finest made entry into the house to clear it, finishing just as I was pulling into the driveway after having finally listened to my messages.

All was well, except for the fact that the men in blue got to see my house in all its' messy glory. Unmade beds. Dirty dishes in the sink. Pet hair on every conceivable surface. Dust thick enough to write messages in. It was not my finest moment.

I had a three hour Zoom meeting scheduled, so I decided to stay home, rather than making the ten mile drive back to Hooterville. I was able to dust and vacuum during ten-minute breaks in the meeting, and, while it's a little too late to impress the local constabulary, it's also better late than never. Plus, cops see much, much worse than my untidy household, so, I'm showing myself some grace on that topic.

I'm also showing Hugh some grace; if he'd  managed to get the back door closed, the house would still be a hot mess. The Lord does work in mysterious ways.