avoidance techniques

I should be cleaning the house. My parents and grandmother arrive tomorrow and there are still beds to be made, floors to be done, etc. etc. Not that it really matters. They won't see how clean everything is but will just be glad to be here. But by instinct or by tutelage, I need it to be clean. That's what you do for guests. And who wants to sleep in a place with dirty floors and dead flies on the windowsills? ( I make our house sound filthy, but really, we get a lot of dead bugs on the window sills because people don't use screens here. The doors and windows are hinged on the outside, and open out, so screens are impossible.) (This also makes it quite comical opening doors, for along time I always pulled the wrong way, even in my own house.)

But I am putting it off and sitting here, typing in kitchen, looking out at the dull, drab sky and wondering what the weather will be like when my parents are here. This is my grandmother's first and maybe last trip-of-a-lifetime, and the weather needs to be good. At least a little good.

Our freezer is full of delicious vanilla buns (a sweetbread pastry made with vanilla, butter and sprinkled with crunchy sugar) and yogurt bread (all thanks to my super-woman mother-in-law!) Martin and I will be sleeping in our little guest-cottage which will be fun. Sleeping in your own garden can offer a new perspective.

We will have a full schedule: a trip to Cracow, Poland, an antiques road-trip, family dinners, a trip to the east coast to see the famous Baltic beaches and the royal summer house, shopping, berry picking, and any other number of things depending on what energy we have left. We also just need to relax and be together, drink tea and catch up on one year apart. It will be impossibly short, and it will crush me to say goodbye. Life is so short. Bittersweet. But I will savour the sweetness for every moment, and try to have a child's mentality and forget the impending goodbye. They will be here for my birthday, after all, so what more can I ask?