¡Que limpio!

Greg had planned to do our construction cleaning before the furniture gets here Sunday, but he was in the hospital with a superbug, so . . .

Dave's friend Jemma was going to do it, but she had a conflict at the last minute, so . . .

Roy, our painter, had a friend who knows somebody -- and after who knows how many phone calls, Zuleia was at the house bright and early Saturday.

Good thing I have some Spanish: She and her family came to the U.S. by boat two years ago from Cuba, and she brought great work skills but no English.

Eight hours later -- after some discussions about how the pineapple was the queen of fruits, the nature of dust and the wisdom of little by little -- the house sparkled in any language.

Bring it on.