I can’t tell you everything I left behind at my mother’s house that will be occupied by the new almost owners on Jan. 31st because the almost owners rent from us for a month or so before settlement, and I really don’t want them finding this blog and realizing that they don’t actually want the stuff I couldn’t bribe Salvation Army, the county bulk trash pick-up folks, the group home next door or anyone driving by the house to take.  Handily ping pong is very in now. Susan Sarandon thinks so, too, and has invested in ping pong clubs called SPIN in a couple of cities, so having a semi-functional ping-pong table in the front yard is quite community-building, if you ask me.

It’s amazing how much one can get done when one (that would be I) doesn’t give a shit. And it’s amazing how upset I was driving along a certain unnamed street to get on the Beltway to head back to Richmond (where I belong) to realize that I had left a just-purchased, unopened pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia fro-yo in the freezer. That hurt.

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