For the past week, Trip and I have no furniture, no table, and limited supplies. We cook meals and sit on buckets on the front porch to eat them. Neighborhood children crowd around our apartment, yelling, and playing with Woodford and Goose (Trip's kitten, with photographic evidence to your right). When we retire to the indoors, they peek in side the windows and make crude speculation as to what we could be doing. I won't miss them. Maybe the one with a mohawk. He flashes me the "rock on" sign when I drive past.
The formerly crowded apartment is starting to breathe a little as things are getting packed up and put away. Some big changes are about to be made...
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