Larry's Place

Our walks have been shorter and completely on the flat since Eric is still battling a lingering on-again, off-again low fever- and low everything else, too. Usually we pass by the front of Larry's empty shop; here it is from the back.
Me? I spent a satisfying time cutting back the daphne, quince, and rose bushes under the living room window: if all goes well, a crew will show up on Wednesday and begin repairing that failing part of the house. It felt sadistically fine to cut and clear with impunity. Next is to move the one-million paint cans (and other detritus of 36 years) from the part of the basement beneath that window. I don't expect that part to be satisfying at all, though I'm glad to give Eric an out from doing it; we'd just argue and grumble.