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I Don't Know The real estate broker selling this house has informed me she's going to have an open house for brokers Thursday morning. She noticed my cat was freaked out and bouncing off the walls when she was in here last week. How did I want to handle that? Did I want to, um, maybe wash the dishes and make the bed? Finish getting the books up off the floor? (Reshelving projects take time, you know.) Ah, life. It has its little ups and downs. I'll make the bed and hope she appreciates the inflatable lady with the clever anatomical design plumped up on the pillows. I suspect her brokers will. One thing, though. I think I'd better hide the fireworks. I need to get rid of them, really, but there are too many people around to shoot them off in the back yard and there's still a certain resistance on my part to sending them out with the garbage. Maybe you really do get wiser as you get older, but I doubt it. Same with the cameras. I don't need to have people know about the cameras and the front door you can open with a can opener.
I had an email from someone who mentioned she liked to look at
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