It's October, and you know what that means, don't you?
It's time to move the furniture.
It might start out as something we do to get at the baseboards, but pretty soon moving furniture takes on a life of its own. Wouldn't this chest work better in the basement? Of course, that means the desk down there will need to go out to the garage, and the bed should be moved to the other side of the room. And we haven't even started on the main floor of the house yet.
Which doesn't impress the pastor who lives here. He may not actually utter un-pastorly things, but I'm pretty sure he's thinking them.
Which is why this week-end, when daughter #4 was helping me clean the basement, and we realized we needed the chest from the garage down in the basement, she looked at me and smiled. “Just let me handle dad,” she said.
And she did.