Ever wonder, if there is a hell, who's there? Nixon? Naw, not quite bad enough. Hitler? Yeah. Idi Amin? Probably. The inventors of white carpeting? Definitely.
Much as we love our house, it has 12-year-old white carpeting in the bedrooms. This was not a smart choice. We have a gravel driveway and a "lawn" that incorporates large patches of light brown dust. So it isn't surprising the carpet doesn't stay clean. What's more, the carpet has stains. Stains that aren't ours. Stains that are probably cocoa cola, but when my imagination runs wild are actually the fermented blood stains of an innocent high-school girl who was murdered here on a dark and stormy night. Or worse--dog poo.
So yesterday, the carpet cleaner guy came. Kindly, our landlords pay for this. We are grateful, but we still have to empty the bedroom and Tommy's music room of their contents. Then, we shove all that stuff in the living room, where we stumble around piles of crap that look like a garage sale gone bad as we try to go about our lives normally and wait for the carpets to dry.
Needless to say--lots of gruntwork yesterday. And then I went on a hike with my friends Paul and Cassin. Then this morning, I taught my Body Pump class. And I wonder why I'm tired.
Anyhow, the bedroom is as clean as a room at Motel 6 now, and we are very, very happy.
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