Next year's goal: to have the place clean before my parents get here, so my mother doesn't have to help me clean before the rest of the guests arrive. I'm forty(mumble) years old. Why do I still approach the idea of housework like a sullen thirteen-year-old? I'm ashamed of myself.
Which is part of the problem, I think. Part of the reason the house is usually so messy is because I am so messy. Part is because I am lazy. And part is because I'm comfortable living with disorder. Then when Thanksgiving appears on the horizon, I see the place through other peoples' eyes and am horrified. That's when I panic, but not the kind that makes one go "move! move! move!" It's the deer-in-the-headlights, stare at the problem and wonder what to do kind of panic. I don't get spurred into action until a day or so before people turn up. And, since my folks arrive first, that means Mom winds up helping me clean.
I can't let that happen again next year. Her hands hurt her. I forgot about that. It's a relatively new problem, so I can maybe kinda sorta almost be forgiven for forgetting. She wears these blue elastic (?) braces for support with some tasks. She said she should wear them more often, but she doesn't want to call attention to herself.
Anyway. The cooking part of Thanksgiving went fine. I just need to do better on the cleaning front. A whole lot better. Like, next year my folks will come in and not have to do anything but put their feet up, that kind of better. That's the goal.
Also? The public areas of the place look great, but there are two rooms that are complete chaos. That's where I dumped all the stuff I didn't know what to do with. I have no idea where anything is any more. Christmas vacation (well, the bit between Christmas and New Year's Eve, I guess) is going to be spent unloading and sorting out the "craft room," aka lumber room #1. Then I'll work on the little lilac room in the back (aka lumber room #2). If I do that, then hopefully by next Thanksgiving everything will have a place to live.