Next Time, We're taking The Big Car

It's near the end of an era. Sarah has sold her house and is moving to Los Osos in central California. Don't you just hate it when a good friend decides to move away? It's cooler and moister there, so Sarah will be able to grow orchids and make soup year round. But first she's going to be busy painting.

The owner of her new house is an "artist" and painted every wall a different vile, vibrant color. If that wasn't enough, the carpet was pulled up and the concrete slab was painted bizarre clashing colors. This is not a Martha Stewart use of color.

I want Sarah to stay in her darling house nearby and remain available for lunch, shopping and hanging out with. That is selfish of me, but I don't care. I want Sarah here.

We went shopping and broke a major rule, we bought more than the car could hold. If we had taken either of our station wagons, there would have been no problem, but we took the little car with practically no trunk.

By putting the top down and piling stuff on top of Sarah, we managed the trip home. That's a wrought iron garden bench squishing Sarah. Oh, and by the way, I won the shopping contest. I managed to spend more than Sarah. I always win.