Dear Whoever lived here before me, and who ever lived here before the people who lived here before me and so on...

Thank you for the leatherman, and the George Foreman grill although i don't know i'll use it, and the cookie sheet, and the slow cooker- which i also don't even know HOW to use, and the hammer, and the child sized ring, and the glass bunt pan, and the flower vase, and for not stealing the second bottom drawer to the fridge that was missing only hiding it way in the back of a dirty cupboard, and the box of strike anywhere matches, but most of all for the microphone- which even though i do not have an amp to plug it into makes me really happy to have so i can dance around and sing into it instead of my toothbrush. it makes me feel like a real live rock star.

i could have done without the years of grimy build up on all the shelves in the cupboards, walls, sink, bathtub, window sills, and so forth, and the piles of smelly plastic and paper bags, and the ant traps, and your used toilet brush and stand with dirty water in it, and your used razors and rusty bathroom fixtures, and lots of full garbage cans left by my door uncovered, and two boxes of strange giant wooden peg legs, and your huge, heavy, smelly, AWFUL, and destroyed pull-out-bed couch.

yours,
jo

i have saged and scrubbed. the scrubbing has only just begun. yet, once i secure myself somewhere between 4 and 6 bookshelves then i can really start to make this place a home. i am already having visions of it's cuteness.

i basically love everything about living in vermont.