Drudgery, drudgery, drudgery! I know, I should be excited about opening all these damned boxes and pulling out their contents and then finding a home for said contents, but how in the hell did we get so much STUFF? I've been weeding as I go through these boxes, putting lots of stuff in a box that's earmarked for Goodwill, but damn!

The only boxes that are pure and unadulterated pleasure are my books. Mmmm... books. I decided that there needs to be a rank above bibliophile, which means 1) a lover of books and 2) a collector of books. Now, I'm not rich enough to really have the library I'd like to have, but I'm working on it. Maybe by the time I die. I do have more books that just about anyone I know. And I do indeed love them all. So what's beyond bibilophile? Bibliomaniac?

It looks like we may have lost one of our cats as yet another lover-ly by-product of this moving business. Of course, it had to be Gab's cat and she was very upset yesterday when I bore the bad news. It sucks more than my Dyson. This kid has had more than enough loss for this year. Unfortunately, either Jeff or Waylon left a window slightly open in the basement, and that's all it took. In the past, when she's wormed her way out, we were home to hear her cries of dismay when she realized she couldn't get back in the way she got out. This time, we were not. I just pray she found a new home.

Did I mention the pigeons roosting in the eaves outside my bedroom? Grr! Anyone know of any "nice" ways to encourage them to move their nest? They make an awful noise, I'm afraid they may be damaging the house AND let's not speak of the pigeon shit all over my window sill and the wall.

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