I love this window seat. It’s a great place to curl up with books or even with a laptop (I had outlets put on each side for when the battery runs down), and Lucy and Wolfie love it (Bernie calls dibs on the pillows under the desks). But none of us have curled up here for a year. Too much stuff:

So, fifteen minutes. Ha.

I found more tape (packing, this time); another flamingo pen; more post-its (I’m putting post-its in every bag for the Cherry Con) including some Krispy Kreme post-its (thank you, Tina); the analysis of Lisa Livia’s subplot, all colored coded and everything; a CD opener that Gaffney gave me for my birthday last year, at least six back issues of Rolling Stone, a Xerox copy of The Cinderella Deal for a rewrite, my manicure box; notes for Agnes with both Bob’s and my handwriting, a collector’s item if I hadn’t thrown them away; notes for D&G; many magazines; another hotel receipt; many books; a big round gold metal thing (no idea what it is); one of my favorites valentines with a fluffly little hamster on it that says, “Please notify me immediately if this cute little critter fails to brighten your Valentine’s Day” and then on inside it says, “his contract is up for renewal and the folks at the greeting card company are evaluating his performance” which cracks me up every time I see it; notes for a lecture on subplots I never gave; the plan for the He Wrote/She Wrote blog which we’ve been faking since I lost it; a huge packet of notes for Agnes with drawings for the wedding cakes which were supposed to be a much bigger part of the plot and with the anger management research for Dr. Garvin’s dialogue; a box of Tea Forte tea bags; and the editing notes from Jen for UMF. There was more–I found the cactus shot glass I bought for inkgrrl when we were in Arizona a million years ago–but that’s the gist.

Strangely enough one of the biggest problems was pillows. I had fifteen, along with a twin size comforter. It’s just not that big in there. So now there are ten pillows and a throw instead. That helped a lot. The lobster is from a trip to Boston. I said, “I have to have that lobster,” and Bob said, “No you don’t,” and then I carried it on the plane and the steward told me I was going to have to choose between the lobster and Bob. When I hesitated, he relented. Bob has, of course, forgotten all of this, but I’ll always have the lobster.

So now it looks like this:

Wolfie is thrilled. He can bark at the deer from the window again.

It’s the little things that make life good.