I’m between houseguests.  My laundry room is piled with unfolded but clean sheets, towels and blankets.  West Virginia friends arrive tomorrow and leave Saturday, and another friend will return for more “truck stop time” this weekend.

Last summer was just like this.  People arriving, departing, cooking, laughing.  Endless laundry.  Loud piano playing.  Kids putting on shows for the parents.  No plan or schedule whatsoever.  This year, I thought, things would be different.  I’ll grade school papers on time, file reports before the deadline, keep my house picked up and have lots of time to write.

Doh.

Looks like the Good Lord has a plan for my summer, and it’s definitely hospitality ministry.  I’m a roadside stop on other people’s roadtrips.  Again.

This is all good, really.  Chances to reconnect with close friends I’ve not seen in two years.  Chances to remember why watching the Tour de France is great fun, especially with a resident expert on your family room sofa.  Chances to eat great food and not have to figure out how to cook it.  Chances to cuddle my beloved godbaby (guess she’s my godtoddler now!).  Chances to give my daughter special time with her girlfriends from far away.

A few sheets and towels here and there…no big deal.  I’m trading laundry time in for memories.

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