Paintings are done, dry. The show hangs tomorrow. Now for cleaning and tidying the house in preparation for sisters, friends, guests. Which isn't that hard because, friends, it is a very tiny house.
Field guides must be neatly stacked in accessible places, for the quick looking up of hummingbirds. Succulents must be dusted, because in the desert even plants get dusty. Indoors.
Laundry removed from yellow wicker chairs. Yellow wicker chairs I saw at a thrift shop on the side of the desert highway. Yellow wicker chairs you just don't say no to.
Tangles of necklaces removed and put away. Simplicity rules, says my mummy. Mummy, who I hear in my head when the house gets messy. Mummy, who has a Shaker-like devotion to tidiness and heirloom tomatoes.
Kimonos, that came from desert friends who travel the world, hung on backdoor pegs. Kimonos that get worn during coffee-drinking with husbands on Saturday mornings outside in the spring sunshine.
The dusting and stacking of books. It is best to stack horizontally if one does not have sufficient bookends. Otherwise one will be woken by crashing books in the middle of the night, which one might confuse with zombies breaking into the house. (Also, one should not watch zombie movies when living in the rural desert when one's husband is away on business for extended periods of time.)