Sell everything but the kid
Welcome to this week’s Reno News & Review.
Still no word on what kind of creature is invading my house through the dog door at night. I moved the dog food into the laundry room, but I notice Alice is suddenly very interested whenever the wind or the cat causes the dog door to make a noise.
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So whose idea was it to have our Summer Guide a month before summer starts? I understand getting a jump on things, but for Pete’s sake. I’m actually sitting here anxiously watching the weather reports, uncertain as to whether I should cover my nightshades and peach tree this weekend, since there may be snow flurries. It’s bad enough that I’m probably not going to be able to mow the lawn, which hasn’t been mowed in two weeks (and there’s another dog missing in the neighborhood, either lost in the jungle or to my cat), but not to be able to finish my garden is going to break my heart. (Post-weekend update: All my tomatoes, peppers and eggplants are dead.)
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Went to Napa last week. My girlfriend, Joy, works at Sezmu, my favorite restaurant in town (I liked it before she was my girlfriend), and the wine distributors sometimes make vineyard trips available to the restaurant, presumably to sell more wine. Anyway, I got to go along, and it didn’t cost us a hell of a lot of money. It’s a great day trip, anyway, and though we didn’t go to a lot of wine tastings, we were certainly tasting a lot of wine.
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I’m thinking about having an estate sale—of all my stuff. I just own so much crap that I store in closets. A lot of it’s valuable, or at least I think it is, which is why I haven’t just taken it to Goodwill. Wouldn’t it be cool to leave on a Friday, and come home on a Sunday to a completely empty house? Can you imagine the peace of mind you’d have if you didn’t have to remember all that stuff you own but don’t care about?