Meet some of the guys who’ve moved in with me while my husband’s at work.  I manage to get rid of them before he comes home every day.

First there’s Doodle.  He’s our carpenter.  He’ll "git ‘r done" like no tomorrow, but half the time I can’t understand him.  And NOT just because he’s talking in "carpenter-speak"; he has an interesting accent…  Doodle likes to ask a whole lot of questions to make sure we’re on the same page.  Sometimes we are…and sometimes we aren’t.  It’s those times that are the most…(ahem) challenging.


Next, there’s Jimmy.  He’s the a r t i s t e in the group–he fauxed my kids’ bathroom in minutes, and he’s got a steady hand, so he gets the crap finesse jobs.  He can paint a reeeeal straight line, too.  And he plays the guitar in a band, which is really cool, we’ve just gotta go hear him sometime.


This is Steve.  I guess more accurately, this is Steve’s shirt.  Had I gotten a picture of his head, it would’ve made this picture hysterically ironic  more complete.  I’m just sayin’….


This is our refrigerator.   It’s having a kind of identity crisis.  Every time I walk through the kitchen, it’s in a different place.  No wonder I broke my big toe getting a midnight snack in the dark…!


Our whole home is covered with a thin layer of dust…well, some are thicker than others.  I think it’s fairy dust.  Every night I wipe it down…every day it magically reappears.


Even our coffee pot is sad…I have noticed my morning brew is a bit grittier these days:


After looking at my floors and realizing sweeping and vacuuming and mopping ain’t doin’ a bit of good, I think I need to take on Pamela’s blog title as a motto…


…the dust WILL wait…
writing is a heckofa lot more fun than cleaning the house…’specially when it’s a losing proposition!! 😉

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