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Journal of No. 118

February 18th, 2004

There but for the grace of Dagon, go I @ 12:27 pm

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Whenever anyone accuses me of being addicted to ebay, I'll just show them this.
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Date:February 18th, 2004 11:51 pm (UTC)


That's just like my dad's house, except not as dusty/covered in dog hair.

My dad, too, sleeps on the couch in front of the TV.

However, he does actually sell on ebay...about half as much as he buys.

Now I know where out ugly fish goblets went...
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Date:February 19th, 2004 11:12 am (UTC)


My parents' house is similar, although theirs is a cumulation of stuff my brother and I left (I sort and throw out another box whenever I go down to visit, but there's still a lot of crap there), my mother's boxes of yarn to be knitted and old gardening/home improvement magazines, stuff from when my mom's parents died that didn't fit in the storage unit, and Dad's training materials for his workshops.

Dad's in the process of remodeling my brother's old room with shelves for the work materials, which should help. The imminent grandchild is also providing incentive to get things in some sort of order, but, well, we usually hang out on my parents' bed because there isn't really anywhere else to sit.
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Date:February 20th, 2004 05:34 pm (UTC)
"You see the disruption in the layer of dust on the chair there? That's where she fell a while ago when trying to climb over stuff to open the window just off the left"

This makes Toren laugh.

I could probably be doing better off if I hunted around garage sales and sold my finds on ebay, but I know if I start I'll end up one of those weird obsessed old people that this site illustrates in a way that no words ever could.

Journal of No. 118