Why is it.........

that on the days you stay in your pajama's, have rank breath, and are peeling the wallpaper off of the walls from not showering are the very days that someone drops in?

I can be sitting here all primped and shellacked and no one will feel the need to stop by but guaranteed if I don't get up, shower, and cover my face in spackle.......that is when the door bell rings. Same with a messy house. Clean house........no one sees.........messy house.........everyone feels the need to drop in.

This morning I wasn't feeling too hot so I was lazing on the couch in my p.j.'s that I absolutely love. They are over sized, look like men's pajama's and are downright comfy. (Well, other than the fact that they are lime green and have hot pink flowers on them but you never know.....there may be some men out there that like that sort of thing.) Maybe not the most flattering pair of jammies that I have but they are comfy none the less and I chose to spend the morning in them.

I was in the process of typing up a reply on the e-mail when my door bell rang. Of course!

Colin answered the door and I hear a deep voice ask if his mother was there. Colin shrugged his shoulder's and told the gentleman yes and then looked over his shoulder at me with a "now what?" look on his face. I asked him who it was. Colin again shrugged his shoulders and gave me the, "I dunno" look.

I sat up on the couch and looked towards the door and told Colin to tell who ever it was to come in with the intention of telling who ever it was that their solicitations weren't wanted and to well......shove off frankly. Not very nice is it but when you are not feeling good and your door bell rings non stop all summer with people selling this that and the other I get a bit cranky after a bit.

A gentleman stood in my doorway with sunglasses on and a baseball cap and said, "hi" with a grin on his face. I stared at him looking at his hat to see if I could get an idea of what it was that he was selling and waited for him to start his speech so I could politely cut him off and send him on his way.

The gentleman continued to stand there saying nothing with a smile on his face. It was obvious that he knew me but well........I didn't have the foggiest idea who he was and blurted out, "I don't know you. Who the heck are you?"

He still smiling answered, "I'm the barefoot guy"!

Oh heck I thought. Well, that would be the PG version of what I thought when truthfully it was more of the PG-13 version.

My thoughts ran wild. I realize that I've been a bit loopy lately and others have teased me that I've been in a drunken state not being able to put two thoughts together but please oh please oh please don't tell me I've gone off and done something stupid again. Think think think Rachel. The barefoot guy. What in the crap have ya gone and done now?

The gentleman continued to grin at me obviously enjoying my lack of being able to put a memory to his face and said, "Shane Phelps. The horse trimmer. Your farrier."

OOOOOHHHH, laughing (me sitting up straighter) and pretending I knew all along who he was and what the heck he was doing on my doorstep. "Did I miss an appointment?" (Vaguely I am remembering that I do have an appointment with him later today but it was later wasn't it? Please? I'm not losing my mind. It was later wasn't it? We hadn't made any changes had we?)

He explained to me that yes, it was later that day but he'd had a cancellation and was in the area and wondered if we could do my horses now.

Me still laughing like an idiot pretending I know what in the world is going on assures him that yes, of course........give me five minutes so I can go upstairs and get dressed.........

He went back outside to his truck and I ran upstairs to scrape the fungus off my teeth, throw my hair back in a pony tail, threw on a baseball cap and some clothes meanwhile giggling to myself. I have such a way with people and making great first impressions. Duh, "Who the heck are you?