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The wind is howling outside. Howling I tell you! This is our first major storm of the season out here on the coast of Oregon. With gusts of 60+mph, my little house shudders and moans and I want to run for cover. . . or at least crawl under the covers of a neatly made bed. The big bad wolf of Winter is threatening to blow down my house.

I miss Santa Barbara. I miss the sunshine. I miss palm trees swaying gently to a rhythm all their own; unlike the trees on my street which have been doing the limbo!! I miss the smell of jasmine in the air and my lovely hotel room in the palest of blues. I’ll tell you what I really miss: MAID SERVICE.

Holy cow, our house is a pit. I must clean, I must clean—because in order to climb into a neatly made bed, it must be made first! There is no maid service in this house, it’s just me. And sometimes IZ. And never the boy. Did you know that 10 year old boys don’t clean? No! No, they dump their things right in the middle of the entryway, toss their wrappers where they please, and leave small lethal legos on the floor for unsuspecting bare feet to find.** Why didn’t their mothers train them better? This is me howling.

Forget running for cover, I wish I could run for the nearest plane! One ticket to paradise, make it snappy. Instead, I will clean, because I cannot bear the idea of this grime any longer. It will not do. The big bad wolf of Winter may be howling outside, but there is no need for it look like we let him in the door! Off I go.

But, maybe first a cup of tea. And a fire.

**And you know what else they do? They leave walkie-talkies on in their backpacks that make this “Drip, drip, drip” noise which in turn sends their mother on a frantic goose chase because she thinks the wind has blown a HOLE in the roof… Drip! Must find the Drip!

Forget the tea, I need something stronger!