Our Best Guestimate

I am incapable of a normal smile.

I did my dishes today.

"Whoop-de-doo," you're thinking.

Weird that my Dad never poses
when it's picture time.
Clearly my mother hasn't been visiting your place if you don't understand the novelty of doing your own dishes. Mom is a cleaner. It's her zen. She might even admit to that.

Dishes don't hit the bottom of the sink with mom around. It's an adorable bonus to her visits. Mom likes to be useful.

If all our guests did that, we'd be golden. I've lost the official count of how many visitors we've had since we moved into our house a year and a half ago. I'm confident we're in the 20s; we had 17 overnight groups in the first  year alone.

This is the best possible time of year in Maine. The temperatures are in the 60s every day. The skies are blinding blue on a regular basis. And the tourists are mostly gone, except for the occasional gigantic cruise ship. There's parking on the street next to my house after the lobstermen go home for the day. Life is returning to normal. I grocery shopped, baked cookies and ran with Daisy Duke today. It was magical doing something normal.

You're an odd bunch of people to have in our lives. One visitor spent eight nights, often eating and drinking out on the town. He discovered swimming holes and chain-smoked his way through the visit. He also got turned on to the beauty of having a pedometer on his phone. He's lost 10 pounds and quit smoking since he got home a little over a month ago. We're very different people; I enjoyed his company immensely.

Hashtag and #Poundsign were probs the favorite guests. Probs. We say things like probs around Hashtag and #Poundsign. Totes. We preferably say these things with a Minnesoooooota accent.

If you listen closely, you can hear
Dad saying, "Get that camera
outta here." So sweet, he is.
The visits often include locals. Sweet Emeline spent a night during a girls' night; then another couple of nights with her boyfriend for a wedding. Chastity came during a snowstorm. Pink Shirt Guy comes and goes as he pleases with his girlie dog, Pippa. Pink Shirt Guy is moving here in a couple months.

And God bless the fact that my family likes us. Mom and Dad have visited three times. My Aunt Flo and Aunt Susie Too visited. Uncle Tom came with RyGuy. CollDoll and Twosan came. My Aunt Flo and Kevdoll were here.

Sure, most of you are just using us for our downtown location and a chance to hang out with Daisy Duke. That's fine. We enjoy the company.

Maybe not for two weeks. Not all of you can stay for two weeks. Mom and Dad get an exemption because I occasionally ignored them. That's meant quite literally. Saturday I left the house at 6:30 a.m. to go to a golf tournament. I forgot to tell Mom and Dad. Around noon, I got a Facebook message from Mom asking how I snuck out of the house. She'd finally gone up to make sure I wasn't dead. I told her I was golfing and I wasn't going to see her that day. I wouldn't do that to most guests.

Then again, most guests don't wander out of the house with no warning and holler, "We're going on a bike ride. See you whenever."

If there is a constant to our lives, and a constant to living in Maine, know the guests will return next summer. Summer is gorgeous here. Don't tell anybody but so is autumn and parts of winter are nice too. We like having guests.

And I can promise you a stack of plates in the sink that will need some attention.

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