Hardly Afghanistan

I'm not at work and I'm not at a tropical or european destination.

So what exactly am I doing on my first day off?

Well, cleaning the house actually. Yup, floors, bathroom, sheets (but no windows). Because most princesses like clean houses. Even ones who travel with 2 dogs of their own, vacuum sealed into a tiny sports coupe.

No seriously, Sweden is taking care of my dogs while I go off to Baltimore to stalk see the Red Sox this weekend. The least I can do is give her a clean place to stay. Four dogs (and one really lucky cat) will provide enough hair as it is, better to start as near to zero accumulation as possible. Five beds, 4 dogs, it should all work out beautifully.

And I've also spent quite a bit of time making room in my smaller-than-a-ship-galley-kitchen for her gigantic coffeemaker that she is bringing somehow some way. I don't drink coffee. Ever. Don't like the taste of it. I know. I'm strange. But I've also never known a woman who cannot exist without her coffee the way that she needs it.

Of course, coffee aficionado that I am not, I suggested Folger's coffee singles - you know - what soldiers in Afghanistan are delighted to drink because they'll take any coffee they can get?

She said, "New Jersey is hardly Afghanistan..."

I told her with the WWII vet on one side wearing a white handkerchief on his head and chasing Canadian geese from everyone's yard, and the Indian doctors on the other side, it might be more Afghanistan than she thinks.

When she arrives tonight, I'm going to give her a burka.