Charley presents a sale...

zoetilleyposter.etsy.com

B-bye cute house

It's been a hurried last month of packing, cleaning, painting, and generally making tidy in preparation to put our little house on the market. We spent a lot of time dealing with STUFF, and the problem of how it got there and now what to do with it. Sentimental attachments were severed. Records were sold. Pottery was gifted to friends. Loads went to the scrapyard, the dump, and the salvation army. We're now a little bit lighter, and the house is up for sale. I shed one tear when we left, but then I turned up the radio and drank some coffee and looked forward to the Next Big Thing.

Scranton was good to us. We're leaving a group of fantastically sarcastic, hard working, fun loving friends, and I'm going to miss them. Fig Street was a great neighborhood - kind and comfortable. When I think about missing our house - it's that, the comfort and security - that I'll miss the most.  Warmth, privacy, dryness... Cooking, refrigeration, hot showers. Wifi. All so easy!

The summer ahead will be a little more roughin' it. I'm happy about that, because I haven't done it in awhile, and it makes me feel like the Me I remember. The Me I like more. I will occasionally feel sad that I can not curl up with Twin Peaks on Netflix at the end of a long day, but... maybe I'll be too tired for that anyway.

So, we're in Vermont, at my parent's house, and will soon be at our land, building the platform our big canvas tent will sit on for the summer.

I know you all can't wait to see the toilet, but it's still missing a key detail, the seat. Soon, my friends, soon. Now, I'm off to Agway to see if they have peeps and ducklings. Please don't let me buy any.

Happity hoppity

Isn't he cute? He's Charley.

Here are some pictures from our recent trip to Vermont. Charley is my mom's cat, as you might recall. He gets to go outside on odd days, and his neighbor gets to go out on even days, because otherwise territories will overlap and Heads Will Roll. This arrangement of alternating days works well, except that sometimes Charlie just really wants out, and too bad for him, it's not his day. So he scampers and squeaks and pleads and scampers. And then he has a snack and a nap.

Today Matt and our friend Pete tore down our garage. I was there too, but mostly I scampered and squeaked and fretted that a critical piece of framing would pop free and then beams would fall on people's noggins, and Heads Would Roll. I am pleased to report that my fears were for naught, and we ended a short work day at our favorite Mexican restaurant. I had chicken in a screaming hot pumpkin seed/tomatillo/cilantro sauce (yum).

We had a fun and successful moving sale, I have not finished my toilet construction, and we scrapped all our months-long-house-planning in favor of Something! Completely! Different! (and cheaper/easier to build). That's my week in a nutshell. Oh, and the woodchuck is eating out of the compost pile because either A. he thinks he's a rat or B. pickin's are slim.

I hope you are enjoying spring!

Malcolm

Malcolm is a rude, dirty cat. Grooming habits? He has none, but he does have a dirty chin and scabby ears. His motto is: everything I see, I pee on it. He destroys porch furniture, befouls the garden, and generally makes a neighborhood menace of himself. Such characters are easy to bribe, considering their low morals. Malcolm lets me scratch his chin, if I give him some barbecued chicken. Then I run right in and wash my hands. Gross kitty.