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There Has Been a Death in the Family

Not my family, but it’s a funeral I shall have to attend, so there you go. I am sad though, because I feel bad for Daddy Jeff, whose real Daddy has died. I like Daddy Jeff. He’s funny and he constructs massive items, because he doesn’t know how to build anything small. He also works with heavy equipment, for which I, for some reason, harbor a strange affection. And he likes to carry heavy things and help out, which made moving considerably easier when we were living near him.

But I hate funerals. I’m taking bets now on whether or not they will play “Go Rest High on That Mountain”. The odds at any given funeral is roughly 10 to 1.

So, anyway, the whole point of this is that I get to go visit the boxes of books that are still left down there. You see, the books here are enough for a platform bed, two bedside tables, a platform for the closet and a microwave stand, and yet there are more of them.

Arrrrggggh!

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