No progress yet on the basement — I’m waiting on the foundation guy’s start date, perhaps another week.

The funeral was fine, except for the protracted tribute speeches by two grandsons and a daughter. That family should have had a long, boozy wake instead. I still cough, but it doesn’t interfere with my voice, unless a fit hits me in the middle of something.

I’m packing up yet more boxes of stuff for the church variety sale. My hands smell powerfully of Javex from taking the tannin stains out of five — count ‘em, five! — teapots before donating them — I’m sure they will sell better if they don’t look grubby.