FFF Visits from Toledo

March 25, Thurs: This morning I am frantically getting my studio-office space ready for a couple of visitors from the Toledo chapter of FFF (Federation of Flyfishers) called "North Branch Boys." Yesterday afternoon at around 3pm they called and asked if they could come up and "shop" for their banquet which is either this weekend or next.
Sure, I said, as my eyes darted around the room in utter panic.  What time can I expect you?
How about 11am, they said.
Great fine.

Never mind that my 13 year old intern arrives midday tomorrow and I usually spend the morning getting the day's activities ready. Never mind that I'm smack dab in the middle of doing the taxes and all my flat surfaces are covered with statements and spreadsheets. Never mind that I'm perpetually hosting the construction of a quilt to be made then auctioned for a fund raiser, and what is not covered in statements and spreadsheets is piled with little bits of goddamn fabric.  Never mind that I haven't unpacked since the Midwest Flyfishing Expo.
But this is nobody's fault but mine. Because even on a good day when nothing else is going on, you can't be sure to find a path through the room.
Great, fine, I said.  Times are tough for the business, and North Branch Boys needs stuff for its auction and raffles.  It's a win win.  Except for the mess.
So now I had less than a few scant hours to get the place uncluttered (where I can find stuff again, no less), and clean, and put out my products in a neat orderly, merchandisy kinda way.  While vacuuming, I listen for the phone in case the NB Boys get lost, and in case my friend who is coming over this morning  to help with the quilt (did I forget to mention that?) needs to tell me she will be late, which she doesn't need to do since I know she will be.
I've package-taped clean the cat-hair off the cheap black office chair where she sleeps just to spite me, and now I'm dusting and wondering if I should put some make-up on so as not to scare the visitors.

The dog is a bit perplexed at all the cleaning.  He's used to a house where the bird droppings (we have an African Grey parrot) are part of the architecture. When I sit at my desk, he's used to laying at my feet amid food wrappers and paper clips. This morning, however, he knows that company's coming. Why else would I clean up?  Like his father (my husband), Mason's favorite activities are sleeping, playing, and eating. Cleaning not so much.  They are both suckers for company and like nothing more than welcoming people who will play.  All visitors are playmates, you see.  I'm just the nasty, sour playground monitor in their eyes (well, in a lot of people's eyes).  But I'm good today for one thing: having visitors.

All surfaces now clear of stuff, I unpack the coasters, jewelry and ornaments and arrange them by the window so the light will show them off.  Then I set out the hand-made wooden presentation fly boxes, and the really sweet lightweight nets that people fall in love with if they actually handle them (hard to do through a website).  On the big table in the center of the room I arrange T-shirts, bandanas, pocket squares, mugs, soap, aprons, tiles, CDs, and tea-towels (a new addition not on the website yet).
My new men's batik print shirts, the pajamas and boxer shorts are hung from the top of the window frame -- not very prominent, since the TU folks said they were interested in shopping for women.
Around the corner on the garment rack are the scarves and shawls.  I hope this does it, and that they don't look around too closely.
The important thing when hosting anything is confidence, right?  No one should see your embarrassment.  You want to evoke a picture of Martha Stewart orderliness, a Pottery Barn catalog life. You want to erase not just the mess, but the shame about the mess.   Because if they really knew the chaos that ruled here, they'd run away over the horizon with their hands in the air.

Oh, boy, I just heard a car pull in.  Now Mason has stood up and is preparing to announce their arrival with his nice loud insistent bark.  I dusted all the surfaces (well, almost) but couldn't find the top of my desk, so they will have to just accept the situation on that score.  Now if only I could.

(Photo on right: Representatives of "North Branch Boys", the Toledo Chapter of FFF.  From left to right: Joan Van Gunten, Treasurer, and Jan and Dave Shearer.)