Your plants are doing well, in fact better than when you were taking care of them (kind of like your car).
The Pharmacy tore out the wall between it and the old Reunion bar that became the Ultraprise part of Huskey Labs before the dot-coms went south. They replaced the bar and did a sort of Pharmacy extention into the new area (i.e. excellent food at the upper end of the price range). The musical groups playing so far are somewhat pedestrian, but I hope to see Sharon playing there soon.
(For those who don't know, Sharon Hall is regarded by most musicians in the DC area to be the Best Second Fiddle on the Planet - we don't know who first is, but if she backs 'em up, she makes 'em sound better.)
Still no sign of your accordion; if you find out a prospective delivery date, let me know so I can leave appropriate death threats for the Fed Ex man. (As in "Don't leave it here... I know it looks like a Fed Ex cardboard box, but it smells like an accordion.)
The lesbian next door just moved out, so you won't have to listen to Lezzie Lust through the bathroom vents anymore. You notice they never say "Oh, you're so biggggg" no matter what they're doing. Go figure...maybe size doesn't matter... to a lesbian.
Your Dad called your answering machine and told it that he was back from getting married. Your machine is louder than God, whose name I invoked when it came on, through your wall, to the head of my bed. I left it turned up for a while, so your plants would have something to listen to, but then they started to die back, and I turned it down. You can feel good that they don't miss you 'cause they didn't know you were gone...(damn, that sounds like a Country and Western tag line...).
See you when you get your fillia of Orillia...