So Brother and Co. moved out Friday. I woke up this afternoon to a quiet house, Brother already having cleaned out the guest room, the nephew's temporary crib, and a few other items. The family had designs on staying in their new house Friday night, with or without their furniture. I think everyone was ready for this. Even the one-year old nephew was getting cranky from having to share a room with an avid Warcraft player and a shedding American Eskimo.
After I woke up, the house was quiet, seemed bigger, and a lot more empty.
All this means is that I can go back to sleeping naked again. Woo hoo!
On a more somber note, some of you may have read about the recent developments at the Harley Davidson plant. The Boomers are aging, and it appears they are the main driving force behind Harley's success. Everyone else (i.e. younger people) are buying less expensive bikes. So, unless Harley comes out with a line of motorized scooters, I doubt their sales will return to the pinnacle of their glory days.
At any rate, Brother was one of the many, many employees who were given their notices. Laid off...permanently. On the cusp of moving into a new house with a pregnant girlfriend. As worried as I am, they are unconcerned. They have a better idea of their finances than I do, so I will try to take a page from their book and not worry about it so much. Old habits are hard to break, I've been worrying about that boy since forever.
Also this afternoon, I woke up to an empty driveway. Meaning...Oprah was gone! Brother finally found a buyer for the truck. Finally! I did a celebratory dance in the vacated spot where the truck used to sit. Tomorrow, I shall lay down in the same spot and make dirt angels in the runoff that has accumulated in the year it sat there. My neighbors, who have had to look at that ugly thing as well, convinced I was single-handedly making their property values plummet, probably had a small stroke when they noticed the truck was gone.
Of course, with the eyesore of the truck being gone, you can't help but notice that my lawn looks really, really sad.
If grass were hair, my yard would look like Donald Trump's head.
The beautification projects around here are without end.