kyburg | Aiii yii yii yiiiiiii

Nanowrimo is toast. I'm moving. For real, this time.

I had a beer last night with dinner, the whole thing is a blur except for that one delicious Sapporo.

My God, it's actually going to happen.

I tried to remember my first look at the house when I moved into it in 1988. I vaugely remember seeing walls brown and dingy, the carpet terribly stained...and the house was full of half-baked furnishings. Fred, who owened the house, was selling it to us as he was retiring and only had used it as a work-related flop. His real home was in Ventura, where he was planning to retire.

He had two dorm refrigerators, more condiments and paper ware than any sane human being and lived on chicken cooked in the microwave with onions and vinegar.

The place stunk.

Fred lived with us three months after he sold it to us, and we lived with him two months prior. The things Cliff got me into. *shakes head* I remember the night we moved in, got the bed set up and realized that this was where we were going to live - with Fred and his stinky poulet. We looked at each other, took a deep breath and saw how terrified the other was.

That's what I remember. I was 28.

Never, in my wildest dreams then...did I think this was what was going to be.

Cliff, dead.

Me, married to someone else.

Me, moving to be nearer the ocean. Me!

Time to find the little house of dreams. God, I hope I find one big enough for all our stuff. *laughs*