I remember looking for an apartment in Kentucky when we first arrived there in 1980 for a job. For eight years my now ex-husband and I lived together. We were married for 12 years after that, and now have been divorced for 10 years. Long time. We get along better when we're not married to each other. Anyway, at one of the places advertised, a cute little place that was once a motel but was remade into efficiency apartments, the woman I spoke to asked if we were married. I told her no, and she looked non-plussed. "Well, we could just tell people you're married," she said. I wrote off that place with the answer "why would we want people to think we're married?"

If I were to rent a room in this house it would end up being an exercise in choosing a roommate. There's no isolation of one room from the rest of the house. The temptation to micromanage the process is probably strong, but I was mostly offering that remark with a thought about the amount of "stuff" that people have these days. With "free will" and the tenant's right to enjoy the space they rent there is a possible clash of room arrangements, such as the amount of equipment in place because of what the tenant might bring in. I wonder if anyone these days can really get along with as few always-on plugs as seem to be available in this room. I had extra plugs wired into this room I use as my office for that very reason. I have a quad plug for the computer and music equipment and things are still plugged in around the room to take care of everything that needs juice. Television, VCR, DVD, radio/cd/combo player, etc. plus lamps, computer and peripherals, phone charger, and more.

Cinnamon is limping very heavily on that foot - a combination of the bulk of the bandaging and tenderness of the wound. She's due a painkiller again this morning. They spent a quiet night asleep on the Persian carpet in my bedroom. I let them out at dawn to pee, and they wanted right back in, convincing me that they weren't finished with their night's sleep yet and slept a couple more hours. :-) They're good girls and think sleeping in the house is fun, but they really do prefer to spend the day outside.

I have the box about ready to mail to my son. I've had to find smaller boxes to tuck things into - he asked for a spare router, for example, and that has one of those heavy wall wart plugs that would bash everything else in the box if it weren't anchored in it's own packaging.

I just taped a new sandwich bag over Cinnamon's foot and put a cross-hatch of masking tape on the part of the bag under the foot so she won't tear up the plastic in the yard. If it gets wet or dirty I have to take her in to have it re-bandaged. I gave her a pill that she spit out a couple of times. It never fails to astonish me that animals that lick their own butts and eat dead things will bother to spit out pills. :)

SRS