My life as a bachelor is about to have the brakes put on it in a big way. The Queen has been at our Minnesota lake cabin since August 31. It's her getaway time and she's been doing this since we bought the place in 1994.
Yours truly, on the other hand, has been living the life of Riley so to speak but it's been a far different one than lying on our dock and watching the loons swim by. I am the worst of the worst when it comes to house cleaning and cooking and locking the front door at night and every other aspect of not having someone nag on me. My biggest responsibility was to take out the recyclabes every Wednesday and I'm proud to say it was mission accomplished.
The good news is I made my bed a week ago. Guests from Iowa were here and I didn't want them to think they were on the streets of San Francisco so I did what any good host would do. I took out the garbage.
Another success story was I scoured the house looking for a deuce or two Charlie might have left in some obscure corner of the condo.
When the lady does arrive and she's sees disorder I'll have a good excuse for not accomplishing much. Hey, I'm seventy-five years old. It's so darned easy to say, when order is not maintained, "I forgot."
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