Clorox Wipes, Interview, and Rice

I usually go out into the community to meet my strangers, but this stranger came to my house. I received a call from Steve Blow from The Dallas Morning News and he wanted to interview me for an article. I told him that I was flexible for a time and place - he suggested a time and then suggested that we meet at my house. Oh, ok....I quickly offered up an alternative location, "We can meet at Starbucks, if you would rather." "Oh, no...your house is on my way home so I can just stop by there and then head on home," he said. Gulp. "Perfect," I said. And the he adds, "No need to do anything special; don't get crazy and feel like you have to clean your house." And then sounding like a Disney dwarf, I said, "Ha ha, I won't." I hang up the phone and morph into Rosie, the robot maid, from The Jetsons. You know the episode where Rosie is in hyper-drive and spinning out of control until she blows a gasket and whirls herself into a metal heap. What to do first??? Caffeine. Two giant gulps of coffee. Note to self....next time, let the Chernobyl coffee cool slightly before gulping. The kitchen and breakfast nook floor looks a wreck from the recent rains and from where I have been painting the walls (yes, I know I was painting the walls this summer, but since we are going to pull up the floor - I didn't use a drop cloth). In retrospect, thank goodness I used a latex, but the floors have to be last. Touch up the downstairs bathroom, just in case. Wipe down the cabinets, pantry doors, and fridge. Unload dishwasher, load dishes. Table knife in hand, I get down on my knees (hold the laughter and jokes) and scrape up the areas of dropped paint. Hhhmmm, I don't recall "dropping" this much paint, but there I am crawling around the floor popping up paint splatters. Another note to self, knees are 48 years old - next time use a drop cloth. I looked like a panda bear all appendages extended and rolling over onto my bum so I could hoist myself up. Next mop the floor - ugh. I hate getting the mop out so I got crafty. I had Clorox wipes under the kitchen cabinet so I rubber-banded them to my Crocs (again stop laughing - they are comfortable) and I walked around the floor; changing out the wipes when they were leaving more dirt than picking up and moving on to the next section of the floor. I liken this process to the instructions on shampoo - lather, rinse, repeat.....secure, shuffle, repeat. On to vacuuming the carpets - uneventful. Light a couple candles and Febreeze the be-gibbers out of the entire downstairs. Ready for visitors...an illusion that would make David Cooperfield proud.

Door bell rings and I am shaking hands with Steve Blow. We exchange pleasantries in the foyer and we move toward the the kitchen table. The one thing that took me back was how tall he is. My husband, Chris comments to the fact and Steve says, "I get that a lot." His by-line photo doesn't really give you much so here are some the of the extras....tall and lean, wearing a blazer with jeans, trendy glasses. We sit down at the kitchen table and begin talking about my New Years' Resolution, how it came about, and the strangers that I have met so far. Then I see it. Right there in front of him; to the left of his tape recorder...... a small grain of brown rice from dinner the night before. Are you kidding me???? I thought I had wiped down the table last night and now I can not keep my eyes off this tiny piece of rice. And every time Steve asks me a questions, I answer and then my eyes dart quickly back to the rice. Similar to shampoo and floor instructions: question asked, question answered, look at rice, repeat. We finish the interview; Steve tells me that he will get with the photographer and give me a call with where to meet and the time. Again, I thank Steve and he in return thanks me. Once back in the house, I tell Chris that it didn't even feel like an interview. Huh, I guess that is a sign of a good journalist. I wonder what the article will be like?? Then I remember the piece of rice. Grab it , inspect in that little distraction, throw it in the trash. Sounds like a good set of instructions.