The Brother and his wife are coming for Easter, and bringing with them a box of Bohemian crystal wine glasses that belonged to my Dad. Sigh. I thought I had successfully parted with them, but no; I had merely kicked the can down the road a few months. Consequently, I must re-think the contents of the china cabinet and decide what I really, really want to keep and what I'm willing to let go, and then persuade Himself to agree with my conclusions.

The kitchen tiling is almost finished; only the four square feet of backsplash in the pantry remains to be grouted, and then the entire kitchen project will be finished. Oh, except for the kick panel under the cabinets on the sink side of the galley, where the tiles were broken and had to be replaced. Oh, and putting a bevel on the hinge side of the china cabinet doors so they don't have to be opened to their fullest extent before the drawers can be pulled out. Come to think of it, is such a project ever quite entirely finished?

Dorothy, I sympathize with your grim thoughts of what might become clutter in your next abode. Our neighbour Neil, who walks his dog for hours a day around the neighbourhood, informed us that our two-car garage might be the only one on our street that actually contains two cars. The furniture restorer who repaired my old rocking chair also pointedly remarked on this unusual characteristic of our household; apparently he sees a lot of garages crammed to the rafters with everything but the family car. I guess it would have been easier to let some of the moving boxes stay packed and stacked out there, but both Himself and I utterly loathe scraping ice off the car, especially in the early morning when one is in a hurry to get somewhere.