Of Cleaning, and Drinking

You would think that, since I got back from vacation on Friday night, and had all of Saturday and Sunday to get back into the swing of things, that it might not be ... how shall I say this? ... a complete pit around here, but sadly you would be wrong. So when I say that I have a fair bit of tiding* to do tonight, in advance of my brother being here tomorrow, this is not to imply that my brother needs cleaning up for. He's about the least judgmental or uptight person I know, and probably he wouldn't bat an eyelash at the current conditions, but I think it would be nice if he didn't trip over eight pairs of my shoes in the living room, or some random cardboard boxes in the kitchen.

*Years ago in China, my mother saw something (in a park, perhaps?) that gave the story of Snow White and the seven dwarfs. Owing to translation issues, the plaque announced that Princess Whitesnow "tided" the house for the seven short men. Ever since, in my family, we speak of tiding the house.

It is often the case with me that I am found cleaning up before someone comes over, because my standards for "just me and the cats" are rather lax. Things get put away eventually, nothing rots in place like on those awful, fascinating, creepy shows about hoarders, but, well, it isn't exactly tidy most of the time. I don't live up to even my own, relaxed standards, basically, until I see with the eyes of another, and then mercy! What slob lives here?

I'm not sure how much sense I'm making. Moving on. My brother will be here tomorrow! Just for the one night, but still, it's a treat to get a visit with him beyond the Christmas season. San Francisco is just so inconveniently far away. They need to get that travel portal on the market already, so I could see him for a Saturday without all the hassle.

And in his honor, I finally got around to tackling the slow-draining bathroom sink (which, yuck, where's the landlord to deal with that), so hopefully he won't have to wash up in the kitchen. And I will pick up at least some of the shoes.

While I do that, you can look at some pictures of things I drank in Maine. I'm posting about my vacation in a manner quite categorical, no? I had intended to do the usual chronological, but this happened and it's rather amusing me.

Swedish soda at the diner. Not bad, either. Next time, I'll try the raspberry.

This was from the coop, on the last day. I had to try it! The liquid was clear, not at all purple, and neither tasted nor smelled like lavender. Dry and crisp and rather refreshing.

I bought this one, at T.J.Maxx of all places. Who could resist the bottle?

And Welsh water! Who knew?

I also had some of this, naturally.

But the best had to be the raspberry lemonade at Jordan Pond House in Acadia.

It tasted almost as good as it looked.