receiving help

A long while back I had an arrangement with a lady who wanted to use studio space and she exchanged cleaning the studio for it. It was great and I forgot about all the everyday things like washing the floor mats and cleaning the toilets and could really concentrate on work. Then she decided to move out west, so I added those tasks back on to my "to do" list.
About a month ago I answered an ad in our clay guild newsletter for someone who needed studio space as a sculptor and would be willing to exchange work for it. We met. Everything seemed to work for both of us as far as the arrangement. My wheel has never been cleaner.
This past weekend I didn't get into the studio until late and she had already gone. She asked me to make up a list of things to do, and I just ran out of time. When I went into the back bathroom, neat stacks of boards, dusted lights, orderly cleaning products were lined up against the wall instead of being strewn all over. My back porch had all the recycled boxes broken down. The little room that I keep the bubble wrap and the huge bags of peanuts in was also neatened up so beautifully that it made me want to weep. My thoughts ranged from amazement at the glory of it to the fear that she might find me so untidy that she wouldn't be able to continue our arrangement.
Sometimes it's hard to ask for help. Sometimes it's harder to receive it. And then sometimes you get exactly what you needed when you couldn't even begin to think how to verbalize to yourself or another what they could do for you that could help.
Sometimes you get very lucky.