I finally put my Christmas decorations away, and it was only March 5. In my defense, it wasn’t still in the living room but strewn about in random boxes on the upper floor where I couldn’t see it (out of sight, out of mind) but Mark and Naomi had to dodge around it every day (an extra bonus to me).

Also I have a LOT of Christmas decorations (second only to my Halloween decorations), mostly acquired at the Patagonia Thrift Store and yard sales. There’s a box of stuffed santas, another of reindeer, one of angels, you get the idea. It takes a couple of months of mentally girding myself up to tackle it. 

Don’t judge me, OK?

Yesterday I mopped my floor. The only worse household chore is windows (those aren’t done). I had to, though. My sister Debbie is visiting. She really needs to visit more oten; we not only mopped, but Naomi cleaned up the Tupperware tsunami on the pantry floor. (I’m not the only one who has this, am I?)

As for the toaster oven, we’ve settled for just buying a new one whenever she visits.

At least my mom is dead. I mean, that’s sad, I miss her, but it’s good because Debbie can’t go home and report to Mom how dirty my toaster oven is. (She actually did that. Mom told me.)

My sister has informed me, however, that she has a VERY CLEAN friend back in Portland who does not believe that I have cobwebs of pet spiders all over the windows (why I can’t wash windows, obviously). Her friend Dee wants photographic evidence. 

Just wait until we send her pictures of our two gray turkeys pooping on the kitchen floor. (In MY DEFENSE, they only come in once in a while. Though when they do, they never fail to poop.) 

I named the turkeys Leo and Brad. Naomi named them Spot and Blue. But a turkey by any other name still poops a lot.

Leo is mean. He even chased Mark, loaded down with grocery bags, into the house a couple of times. What I would give to have seen that, or better yet, videotaped it. Dee would have loved it.

Now I just have to hope my sister leaves before I have to clean anything more. Out of sight, out of mind.