Drink, Swear, Feast -- OR the truth about lying

Hello my darlings,

It's official!  The next chapter in Ronda's choose your next adventure saga is beginning.  Huge thanks to all of you who have offered to open your home to me.  Rest assured your couches, guest rooms and basements are all safe and more importantly Ronda-free!  I've signed an 8-month lease for a two-bedroom apartment in Downtown Denver.  This apartment is small, but very nice and it's in a great location 10-minute walk to Union Station where I can catch light rail, 10-minute walk up 20th to watch a Rockies baseball game, not to mention all of the nearby coffee shops, bars and restaurants.  Additionally, the Cherry Creek Trail meanders through the park across the street.  My lease officially starts on March 2 and I am planning to move to Denver on/or around March 6.  I will be spending time in the following weeks back and forth to clean, donate any items that aren't sold/given away in my upcoming yard sale (UGH - I DREAD the idea of having a yard sale) and finally attend the closing of my current house on March 20.  I am excited and elated and terrified and confused and sad and happy and (insert random emotion here) about what this means and where life takes me from here, but let the journey begin!

Packing and purging my house, living among (and sometime out of) moving boxes and that damn widow book that my therapist wanted me to read has my mind spinning.  That book!  That damn book!  It absolutely infuriates me reading about how pathetic the author thinks women are.  Rather than perpetuating lies or making people feel like shit because they don't "have it all" I think I should pen a book (sort of a self-help (Please note that exactly like most self-help books, my book will most assuredly NOT be helpful, at all, to anyone, ever!) from the completely f*ed up to those of other varying degrees of fuckedupedness around me) about life, love and the pursuit of happiness.  As an ode to everything opposite of that moronic "Eat, Pray Love" I think I'll call my book "Drink, Swear, Feast!"  Naturally, I start with Drink because that IS what helps me cope with the day to day bullshit of life.  Swear, um, you've all heard me and read this nonsense, so yeah, swearing can't be much of a surprise, but I call it out specifically because I don't give a shit what the "experts" say about love and relationships, they are really hard and they actually suck much of the time.  Finally, Feast because in my life food is joy.  Nothing gives me more pleasure than sharing a beautiful meal, accompanied by lascivious libations and colorful (read expletives welcome!) conversation with friends. 

OK, I'm not sure if I will ever write a book or not, but thinking about it makes me happy and provides an excellent mental distraction from the banality of packing.  

Until next time....

XOXO

PS - The apartment does offer free overnight parking for guests, so let me know when you want to come visit me!

PPS - I still have lots of shit to sell, including Boob Kitty Kitty.  Step on up - I know one of you wants to own Boob Kitty Kitty!

Shit my therapist tells me....

Hello my lovelies,

I am very shocked to report that no one has yet jumped on the opportunity to own boob kitty kitty.  Do you all have your own private stash of boob kitties that you've been hiding from me? Or did you just assume that someone (probably Tom McMichael) already jumped on the opportunity to own that little gem.....  

You all know that I was pretty much a mental case prior to all of this death craziness, well, apparently my cuppa crazy was overflowing recently because a number of people suggested that I "see someone" to help me through this.  You will be pleased to know that I heeded that advice and I have, once again, been seeing a therapist for the last few weeks.  She is fantastic and I really enjoy talking with her.  I'm not 100% certain what my goal is, or what "fixed" is actually going to look like, but I figure at this point and with everything I have going on it can't hurt, so I continue to go.  

Two-weeks ago we talked about mindfulness, meditation and tapping.  I tried, I swear I tried, but I pretty much suck at all of that stuff.  I assure you, my mind is FULL and VERY busy, but apparently that's the opposite of what is actually good or healthy.  Meditation?  You mean you actually expect me to sit quietly (HA! not likely) and listening to that endless chatter in my brain (Hell no!)   Oh, right, meditation is where that whole mindfulness stuff comes into play.  Yeah, so about that......  Tapping?  In case you are not familiar that's an acupressure based technique where you gently tap pressure points while reciting a mantra or an affirmation.  It's very hippie chic and while I don't disagree with it necessarily, in my busy little brain I just didn't really see that it made much difference.  

Last week, since I am an avid reader, she gave me a book and homework.  The book is called "Widow to Widow" and the homework was to read the first of three sections of the book.  I read the first section and most of the second section (I'm such the little overachiever) until I was so irritated I was ready to book a flight to Tucson to punch the author in the throat.  Section one, turns out, is about emotions and what's "normal" for me to feel and some information about how me being all "feelie" (aka my stupid eyeballs leaking every fucking day!)  makes the poor innocent bystanders (aka all of you suckers that continue to read these and / or associate with me) makes you feel.  In case you were unsure how you are supposed to feel about me crying at the drop of a hat and continually whining about my stupid life, apparently you are supposed to vacillate between pity (Please don't - I don't want anyone to feel pity toward me ever) and frustration because you are helpless to actually fix this for me.   Full disclosure, those of you just keep tolerating this nonsense and occasionally say "let's grab a drink" are helping FIX this more me more than you know!

Section Two talked about children and family and how family members react.  Since I opted not to procreate (once again, you are welcome!) and since NONE of my six living siblings actually attended the memorial service I thought it was safe for me to skim those chapters.  The throat punch inducing portion of the book talked about the damsel in distress idea.  According to the author, as a woman I probably had to rely on my big-strong man to change a light bulb, or reset a breaker when a circuit tripped, or shovel my sidewalk or take out my trash.  BITCH PLEASE!  Who are these women?  Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't disappointed that the hottie little rookie cop shoveled my driveway the day Ray died, but I don't NEED to call him to do it for me every time it snows and when a light bulb burned out in my house, I get my trusty little ladder (frankly, I haul that thing around my house all the time because I'm short) and I change the damn light bulb.  BY MYSELF! GAH!  I assumed that this must be a reprint of a book written in the 50's (though I'm fairly certain I could have changed a damn light bulb even in the 50's) and was shocked to see that it was written in 1995.   I hate this book almost as much as I hated the nauseating "Eat, Pray, Love" crap, but I finished that one, I will finish this one too.  

Yesterday, my therapist suggested that I write letters.  She wants me to use that as an opportunity for me to express gratitude to the people that have shown me love and support and as an outlet to vent my frustrations about the on-going nonsense I'm encountering while dealing with accounts and trying to rent an apartment.  (More to come on that... I'm really trying avoid being homeless or, more accurately couch surfing with friends until they toss me out on the street, but my lack of income, regardless of my bank balance, is proving to be quite a challenge.)  I have to admit that when she suggested I write these letters I did immediately think of my favorite author, Jen Lancaster, and the hysterical letters that she writes to all of the asshats that piss her off.  Apparently, my therapist read my mind (or the smart-ass look on my face) and suggested that I WRITE these letters, but then I decide whether or not I should actually SEND the letters.  HA!  

Consider yourself warned!  If you receive a gratitude letter from me, it's not because I was drunk writing (though I'm not ruling that out and neither should you) it's because I am adhering to the plan that my therapist suggested.   The other more "colorful" letters will be directed to mortgage companies, credit card merchants and these f*ing apartment rental nazis and I may preview a few of them here, you know to sanity check them before I send them.  HA!

Until next time....

XOXO

Say what?

Hello my lovelies,

After a few days/weeks of mental ping pong deliberating on where the hell I am supposed to go I am perilously close to making a decision about where to live.  The application and proof of income have been submitted and I am now just waiting for final approval.   Based on the urgency to make a decision and a conversation with my financial planner and the urging of a trusted friend I opted for a really cute (read small and not cheap) 2-bedroom apartment in Downtown Denver.  It's on the corner of 20th and Little Raven.  The area has lots of bars and restaurants, it's about a 10-minute walk to Union Station and a 10-15 minute walk to Coors Field.   Additionally, the area is much more mature (read filled with people close my age) than the ultra-trendy RiNo location.  Oh yeah, and the Cherry Creek Trail is literally across the street!  

As I am wandering through this new adventure that has become my life, I was enjoying a vision of this new active, urban lifestyle that I am about to embark on.  Lucky for me the leasing agent in my new apartment complex quickly brought me back to the reality....

Let me recap my day for you.  I had appointments to look at two apartment complexes in the morning, then I was meeting a friend for lunch and hopefully at some point in all of this I was going to actually make a damn decision.  The first complex was really new and very modern.  They have great security for the building, stainless steel appliances, quartz countertops, really high-end finishes throughout the building.  The second complex was nice, they are remodeling all of the units to create a more high-end feel, but certainly didn't offer the opulence of the first property (read much better price point).  After seeing both properties I enjoyed a pleasant little stroll downtown to meet a friend for lunch.  While I would generally consider myself pretty impulsive, this friend is one of the most analytical people I've ever met.  That said, let me recap our lunch conversation.  Basically, it started me whining (not actually a surprise to anyone I realize) about not being able to make a decision (see impulsive statement above) and him sitting across the table from me with a mildly annoyed expression saying "What's the worst thing that can happen?  Just do it!"  

HA!  How's 'dat for some deep analytical shit?

With that urging I went back to the first property to look at the apartment again and start the paperwork process.  As I was standing in the apartment I was mentally thinking about what furniture I need/want and the placement for various pieces.  I mentioned to the leasing agent that as I am purging my house I realized that I currently have five wine racks (SIDEBAR: the apartment has a dry bar area - clearly this place was MADE for me!) and that this place has a great location for the ONE wine rack I intend to keep.  At this reference she tells me that her dad recently passed his sommelier certification, to which I offer a smart-ass response about possibly being in love with her dad.  Later as we were walking through the building to look at the parking garage and bike storage she told me that her dad recently started doing triathlons and loves biking.  She then stops dead in her tracks, looks me in the eye and says "You should date my dad!"  

F*MYLIFE!  

Really?  My immediate reaction was irritation, because I cannot possibly be old enough to date someone's dad!   Er, uh, blech, fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk.....  Sadly the reality then hit me that since this cute little leasing agent can't possibly be a day over 25, I guess theoretically I COULD be old enough to date someone's dad.  Fortunately, I think I am still in a state of mentally, physically  and emotionally f*d up that there will be no dating any time soon.   Sorry dad......  

Until next time.....

XOXO

Fit to be tied.... up?

Happy Belated Valentine's Day my lovelies,

It is will much trepidation that I report that my closing date has been moved up from March 20 to March 10.  I now have little more than three weeks to purge, pack, move and clean before I exit my house once and for all.  I feel like I am making good progress, (I'm finally at a place where I am packing more than I am purging) but without knowing where I am moving to it's a little difficult to discern what I need to move and what should go to storage.   Since I am planning to do a short-term (6-8 month rental) I am working to minimize what I take with me. Additionally, with the items I intend to take I have to balance what I need for the next three weeks versus what I can pack and live without until I'm in my new place.  I've been puttering around packing the house for several weeks, but until now I've been ignoring the garage.  

Yesterday, I decided to tackle the beast, so I moved Ray's truck (it's likely going to remain parked outside until I sell it) and began moving the various tools and implements into the newly vacated garage bay.  I am delighted to say that there are not nearly as many surprises in the garage as there were in the office.  Furthermore, I actually think I know what most of the garage items are, I don't know WHY we have many of them, but I do know what they are.  For some reason we have three drills (two cordless and one corded) two sanders and a dremel kit.  We also have a leaf blower (I actually bought that one) several saws of various size and function including a chainsaw.  I don't think we ever used (I know definitively that I did not) a chainsaw for anything, but I take comfort that buried beneath the numerous planters and other yard supplies we did, in fact, have a chainsaw.   

By far the most interesting thing I uncovered was the sheer number, size and variety of tie down straps that we have.  Seriously, I was beginning to wonder if Ray had some sort of "50-Shades of Home Improvement" thing operating out of the garage. (OK, I really didn't think that at all, but there really are a lot of tied down straps)  I realize it's quite wasteful for me to just continue throwing things out or donating them, so I'm thinking that maybe I should post some of this stuff on Craigslist.  Here's the ad I came up with for the tie-down straps.  I wonder if anyone will call.....

Tied down in J-town?   Feeling a little loose and off-balance, no problem I have the perfect strap, ratchet and bungee device to secure even the biggest load.  Whether you prefer large or small, tight or something a little more elastic I have just the thing to tie you up to get you to your destination with ease.  

Consider this my ode to Valentine's Day (and since I have the mind of a 13-year old boy far too often) I couldn't resist using that as an opportunity to turn a completely innocuous thing into something that sounds way more dirty than necessary.

Until next time...

XOXO

When I grow up I want to be a......

Hello my darlings,

I am writing this on the morning of the last official shenanigan that I will host in this house.   I have to admit the thought of it is very bittersweet.  I love having my house filled with wonderful people, fabulous food and of course a cocktail or seven thrown into the equation can't possibly be a bad thing, (er, well, until the next morning, then it can be a very bad thing, but that's a post for another day, perhaps tomorrow)  but the reality of hosting it by myself is very sad.   The tag team system that Ray and I had typically included him coming up with menu suggestions (often very complex menu suggestions) and me shopping, chopping and executing it to some degree of success (usually a fairly high-degree of success, but there have been a few misses over the years) and him creating a music playlist, which usually included some rather bizarre musical selections.  Since I'm on my own this time the menu is easy -- fajitas - chicken, beef, shrimp and lots of veggies - a variety of fresh (bought, not made) tortillas and the various chips, dips and dessert accompaniments that my guests bring.   As for the playlist, I envision people shouting at Alexa all night or suffering with my ultra-chill Lumineers station on Pandora.  Oh and BEER!  SIDEBAR: I'm going to Longmont today (see desparkle reference below) so I'm going to grab a few of those growlers in my basement and put them to use with a menagerie from a few local breweries.  FWIW I'm becoming an IPA drinker (XOXO Finnigan) and Wibby Brewing has a couple of great IPA's so I will definitely have those, but I'll also grab a couple of wheat beers and other lighter options for my non-IPA pals.   OK, enough about my sadness and my menu and beer... mmmmm beeeeeer.... surely there is a point to my rant, let's get on with that, shall we.........

I had a friend comment last night on how fast things are moving.  He couldn't be more right.  I had the appraisal done on my house yesterday and barring any significant issues with that (I don't anticipate any) my house will officially close on March 20.  That leaves me about 5-weeks to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with my life, or at least where I am going to live!  YIKES!  Five weeks doesn't feel like a lot of time at this point.  I've made significant progress in my purging efforts and I've made decent progress in packing and labeling things I want to move with me and stuff that can go into storage for when I decide to buy a place in the future.  I very much intend to sell / donate / barter to rid myself of most of the furniture and large items and to live a very minimalist lifestyle in my short-term rental.  Well, minimal with a lot of shoes. I can definitely get rid of a lot more clothes, but I have no intention of further purging my shoes!  This brings me to the need for a decision on what the hell it is that I intend to do, preferably by March 19, to ensure I don't end up sleeping in the storage unit that I am securing to hold my belongings.  Here are the options I've come up with thus far:

1. Secure a 6-month rental in Denver, likely RiNo, live in and among a bunch of hipsters and figure out what my new grown-up life looks like six months from now.  
2. Say screw being a grown-up, put all my crap in storage with the exception of a couple of suitcases of clothes, rent a room from my friend Joie (for the rare times I am in town) and spend 6-month (or more) traveling.
3. Stop shaving my legs (HA! I'm getting a head start on that one) grow my hair out and join a religious cult.  
4. Do something sensible, get a 6-12 month rental somewhere (likely the DTC) with more reasonable rental rates (Downtown Denver ridiculously expensive) get a job and once again act vaguely like a grown-up.
5. Find me a sugar-daddy!
6. Pack up those camping shovels, grab some of the food storage meals in my basement and go off the grid (also another reason to stop shaving my legs)

OK, let's break each of these truly magnificent ideas down a bit farther, shall we.  

Options 1 - Hipsters!  I have to admit the RiNo area is really cool, it's urban and active and uber-trendy.  It's also a construction zone!  They will have sidewalks within the next 1-3 years after they widen the road and build the five new apartment / parking garage complexes that are in the works.  Let's focus on urban, active and uber-trendy for moment.  Um, I am active, but that's about the only check I have there.  I do not have, nor do I want any facial piercing or tattoos.  I pretty much hate aviator sunglasses and vow to NEVER own a pair.  After surgery on both of my achilles tendons wearing stilettos is not happening, especially in an area with no sidewalks.  (Hmm, if I move to RiNo I should probably include my scooty-cart and crutches, pretty sure there are some bitches that will need to rent those from me soon.)  The appeal of living with the hipsters is that it is completely different that anything I've ever done and it's the most un-Ray thing I could possibly do!  Sadly though, I'm not sure that's the best reason for me to do it.  

Option 2 - Travel!  I have to admit this is pretty appealing, but it also scares the shit out of me.  I've had a job most of the time since I was 15-years old.  I've never been in a position where money wasn't a driver of the majority of my decisions.  I feel like there some innate thing inside of me that won't actually allow me to be completely frivolous.  Furthermore, the whole story of recently widowed and taking six-month to travel and find herself, seems like a pretty cheesy movie plot.  Hmmmm, maybe this will be the opportunity to write my version of Eat, Love, Pray.  (Full disclosure I HATE that book - it was the most narcissistic, whiny bunch of dross I've ever read.  In case you haven't read it (and I hope you haven't) I would summarize it as a whiny, narcissistic, difficult to live with woman gets cheated on (because she's awful to be around) and dumped and is so distraught that she takes a year to travel and find herself.  I spent the entire duration of the book mentally shouting "You got dumped bitch, shut up - get over it!"  Yes, I do realize I could have stopped reading the book at any time, but I didn't and I HATED that book!)  Rest assured my book will have a much more "put-your-big-girl-panties-on-and deal" sort of tone.  I really like food, so there will be much eating, but not much praying, oh and a lot more swearing.   Yeah, there's probably no need to go stand in line at the bookstore, just yet.  I'll keep you posted!

Option 3 - Cult!  While I am a girl who appreciates winter as a time to refrain from shaving my legs, I really enjoy showering and I'm not yet secure enough in who I am to forego covering these damn gray hairs that continue to propagate my hairline.  Oh and the whole religious part.  Yeah, um, so about that.....  I think we can safely eliminate #3 from any further consideration.

Option 4 - Sensible!  I know this is exactly what I SHOULD do, but I'm not sure if I want to.  I will admit that I feel extremely guilty about not working, especially when I'm talking with friends about the chaos in their jobs (but mostly I just hate that they have to work and can't come play with me!)   There are days that I am absolutely stir crazy because I don't have anything to focus my energy on (OK, I have packing, but that is just making me sad, so I have to take breaks from that frequently.)   Most of all I miss using my brain!  I'm probably just a freak, but I like solving problems and I LOVE making decisions.  I guess more specifically, I love making decisions at work because clearly I SUCK and making decisions about life!

Option 5 - Sugar daddy!  Yeah, lots of problems here too.  I am a few million light-years away from being sweet enough or cute enough or demure enough to be a trophy wife (or more accurately any kind of wife) and the whole idea seems like a lot of work.  My current routine I can shower, dress, do my hair and makeup and be out the door in 30 minutes.  Granted, you've all seen me and there are lots of days I probably should have taken another 10 or 20 or.....  Turns out I am LAZY!   I go every 6-8 weeks to have my hair desparkled (DAMN you gray hair) and my eyebrows deforested.  Furthermore I keep getting my hair cut shorter, so I can just leave it curly and pretend that actually counts as a hairstyle.  I think this is probably also a reason that living in and among the hipsters would not be a great fit.  Women that take hours doing their hair and try to pull it off as naturally beachy-wavy hair annoy me beyond measure.  Take it from this curly girl!  Naturally curly hair looks messy.  Naturally!  Beachy-wavy hair with perfect waves every half inch looks like a LOT of work and time and why bother?

Option 6 - off the grid!  HA!  I don't consider myself overly girly.  I like to be outside, I love to hike, I have no problem getting sweaty and dirty, but I also like showers and beds and delicious meals and wine.  Oh yeah and I loves me some internets!  Until wifi is "off the grid" I'm staying ON!   Looks like those camping shovels are going to find a new family to live with....

So in case you haven't noticed I pretty much have no idea what the hell I am going to do with my life, but I now have a five week clock ticking very louding to make a damn decision already.  Inevitably, there will be much more to come in this saga.  

Consider this a warning I may be reaching out for a couch to sleep on in the coming weeks.....

Until next time....

XOXO

So, maybe the universe hates me.....

Hello my lovelies,

Remember when I was optimistic because things seemed to be going so well.  Hmmmm, I realize that things really are not terrible now and it could be much worse, but this has been a week of snags, hassles and inconveniences.  Nothing earth-shattering just pain-in-the-ass nuisance things that when combined feel like they are going to suck the life out of me.  Here's the list of things that happened in the last seven days:

1.      No home for you!

My fabulous realtor and I had a great time looking at potential places for me to live last weekend.  However, without knowing what I am going to be doing or where and without having any income clearly this is not the time to buy.  Additionally, the fully furnished place that I thought was going to be available for me to rent, may not actually be available for me after all.  Truth be told, that may be for the best because I really think that moving south (aka Denver) makes the most sense, but it means that now while I am packing and purging and selling my furniture I need to rethink my strategy because I am likely going to end up in a short term (6-month or so) rental that I will have to furnish.

2.      Why I hate the letter H!

I know you all remember me lamenting about opening a probate case.  One critical item from the probate case is the creation of an EIN number from the IRS.  My attorney provided me the number in a letter that stated I would receive the official letter within 3-4 weeks.  I got the letter yesterday, my name is spelled wrong!  I realize that MOST of the time the name Rhonda has an H, my name is RONDA without an H.  Really?  It doesn’t seem that difficult to me, but somewhere between my attorney and the IRS they added the damn H.  Turns out that having your name incorrectly spelled on an actual legal document is kind of a problem.  F*mylife!  Lucky for me all I have to do is provide TWO ID’s with my name spelled correctly and they can amend it.  That process will only that 2-3 more weeks.

3.      How can I prove who I am?

Yeah, so about that letter, that was supposed to be one of the documents I can use (and since we weren’t married I actually NEED) to finalize the death benefit claims with Agilent.  Unfortunately, since I am Ronda Chadwick and NOT Rhonda Chadwick, I am once again stuck in a waiting game to receive an amended official document to prove I am the rightful heir.  Did I mention that I need this letter in addition to the driver’s license, social security card and birth certificate I’ve already provided?  YES, you read that correctly.  I had to provide a copy of my birth certificate, but now since someone, somewhere has an affinity for the letter “H” that I clearly do not share, I am currently unable to prove that I am entitled to receive this life insurance money. 

4.      Today?  That has to happen today?

Ray’s mom is not dealing with this well and apparently has decided to cut me out of her life entirely.  Earlier this week I was getting pressured to go leave a death certificate at the bank that Joyce could pick up to have Ray’s name removed from her accounts.  This conversation occurred about an hour before I was scheduled to spend three-hours with my financial planner figuring out my financial future including: what is where, what proof I need to provide to claim it and what I can/should do with the money once it comes in.  I know the requestor had no way of knowing how much I had going on, so it really isn’t fair for me to be upset about it, but I’m not gonna lie, I was pissed and handled it a such….    In my mind that was NOT a problem that needed to be solved that day, and frankly, the proposed solution is not the way this should be handled at all, but I cannot deal with that on top of everything else I have to do, so I'm choosing to file that one in the "not my problem to solve" folder.

5.      Why do we have camping shovels?

Finally, this is just more of the purging fun.  I continue to unearth numerous things that I was not aware we had and many more that I have no clue why we do.   My new list of WTF items that I’ve discovered includes the following:

·        Two portable camping shovels (Um, yeah in 18-years together we NEVER camped, not once, not EVER, so why in the hell do we have not one, but TWO camping shovels?)

·        Approximately seven thousand cigar cutters and/or lighting devices (OK! Soooo 7000 might be an exaggeration, but trust me, there are a lot of them)

·        One Veho Muvi camera (similar to a go-pro, but with more accessories) with a tripod and numerous mounting devices

·        Four cases of 3.5 floppy disks (those are now in the garbage)

·        Three sleeves of blank CD-RW media (not yet in the garbage, but probably headed that way soon)

·        So many more video games – Seriously, I had no idea the guy I lived with was so into video games

·        One Garmin GPS

·        A second set of walkie/talkie only this one is not camo

·        Enough cords, cables and plug-in devices to power an entire continent

·        Four International power adapter kits (I have NO idea why we have four of them, but remember we also had TWO weather stations, so four international adapters isn’t a complete surprise)

I’m sure there were numerous other fun items that I’ve forgotten about, but I am once again amassing an impressive pile of donation items to be picked up early next week.  My next big purging adventure is going to involve hauling massive old TVs to eWaste for disposal.  I have no clue how I am going to get these enormous TVs out of my basement, up the steep walk on the side of the house and into the truck, but I will figure out some way to make it happen.  Just not before I pay that insurance rider on my house…. Better safe than sorry!

Until next time…..

XOX