With one and a half days until the Big Truck comes and takes everything away, we are now at full pelt.

Well, some of us are. Some of us are being four on a summer's day and contemplating life, the universe and everything with the dog. (Though, we can't assume that is what she, too, is thinking. There are many possible answers to "What is that dog thinking?")

Of course, we are hoping this is as pleasant as it looks. It is hard to know how a four year old processes such a thing as moving from the only home he's ever known. Tonight, he asked, "When will we get our house back?" I tried not to look like my heart had just squeezed tightly.

In marginally related news, a resident mouse revealed itself tonight. It too will need to vacate and this method has worked once before. We have high hopes it will again.

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