My best friend arrives on Wednesday from D.C., and oh my! I’m working hard to get our house in order. It’s our first visitor in our new home and I’m so freaking excited.
I’ve been trying to buy not-too-expensive but still nice furniture in a hurry. But, sadly, we won’t be quite ready for her visit.
We’ve been eating off our rickety, wine-stained patio table while waiting for a table from World Market to arrive (ordered on Dec. 11). And the days ticked by, and no table, and I kept thinking, “Oh, it’s the holidays! And we’re far away from civilization! Surely it arrive tomorrow.” I even called the shipper after the New Year and a woman told me the table was “in the valley” and on the way. Wrong. Turns out, it was lost. So we have re-order it and wait… again.
A. has also decided to make the furniture for the guest room (I’m having trouble finding pieces that fit for a reasonable price.) So A. eagerly bought a table saw — “I’ve always wanted one,” he said — and he spent hours sketching Friday evening. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
This means the guest room won’t be furnished by Wednesday. Oh well — homemade furniture is way cooler. And S. will have a queen bed to sleep on.
At least we’re unpacked. Our books are off of the floor. Photos — including a beautiful one of S., are on the wall.
I’ll buy some flowers and we’ll keep her warm and well fed. I know she’ll enjoy the bright blue skies, sunlight and views of the mountains.
She texted me yesterday asking questions about the visit, and then said: “One more question. Can I take you home with me??” I responded that we may just have to kidnap her. But I’ll be happy if she enjoys her visit so much that she wants to come back.