I urge everyone here to read the entries on this website and repent their society-destroying ways. It's not too late for America! It's not too late for the world!

Oh. Dear.

Sparky is close. She has a couple of double deckers here, plus beds at my dads and sister's. Now she needs a cottage bed.

(And this is Darby we're talking about. What is more likely? Wanton destructiveness on her part or overreacting to mild anxiety through excessive pampering on mine? )

brenda, maybe take one of the beds she's already had a chance to sleep in to the cottage so she has a place in the new environment that smells like her?

Today is a burrito day.

Dang, flea, I'm sorry about the house.

Every time (and it's not often) that I manage to wash, dry, fold, and put away all the laundry in a single day, I feel like I've won some sort of housekeeping Oscar. And I'm usually only doing one or, max, two loads at a time! But usually I don't get it started until the evening, so it's still drying when I go to bed, and then the next morning I've usually forgotten all about it until I realize I can't find any underwear.

Also, I need to share: I had a dream last night that involved me shouting at someone righteously and at great length and volume, and I woke up thinking, "Wow, that was so satisfying!" Possibly I need to shout more in real life? (OK, probably not.)

Oh, flea, I'm sorry, that house looked wonderful. Which of course makes the competition worse.

I'm waiting for my financial advisor to show up so she can tell me whether I should sell my house, how to roll up all my retirement accounts, and so forth. And then I have a haircut and then I have a telephone call with Kaiser about some surgery I'm having in a few weeks. And I ran 5 miles in the hills this morning, with a pretty fast pace compared to my usual, although the zombies caught me at least twice.

Maybe. From way back, Dana, if you beat up Ayn Rand guy, e-mail me. research. I loved it when KO used to read those Thurber stories(despite my oosting, it took me a while to get fully on board. But he's a funny reader and does voices so it wasn't like "Keith, he's your dad, and rather a captive audience.Although I understand in some families one is enough...I read, somewhere.) Flea, I do not miss the ups and downs of the house hunt. Although this condo isn't everything.

Yesterday at about 2pm all the laundry in my life was either clean and folded or actively being worn. At 7pm my darling son, whom I love and therefore did not kill, said to me, "Mom, it looks like you need to do some laundry. The basket is full." (And it was, because 4 people had just taken off their clothes (2 outfits for the kids because of soccer) and put them in the basket.

Sorry about the house, flea.

Heck, the first pick is named Jadeveon Clowney! But nobody will top my football name favorite, Barkevious Mingo.

I dimly remember someone from the Boston Globe (?) putting forward an All-Name basketball team, back in olden times.