Who knew that a soft, cushy, old friend, pillow-topped, excellent for tv-surfing and napping couch could destroy one's shins so utterly and completely? And then (insult upon injury), I find out there is a blanket of dust layered over ancient objects hidden behind the sofa that would make any self-respecting archaeologist green with envy.

Hee. That reminds me of the time loooong ago when, according to legend, I got a hold of a Whitman's Sampler box of chocolates. I would select a bon bon, take a bite, and the ones that I liked, I gobbled down and the ones that I didn't, I nonchalantly tossed behind the couch. Lucky for all of us, Cybermom is close to godliness with her cleanliness and found the sticky stash while vacuuming behind the couch one day.

Tomorrow, the movers come and, Calgon-like, will take it all away. By tomorrow night, I can finally rest, perhaps play connect-the-bruises, and gear up for the next task: unpacking. So until then . . . um . . . enjoy this oldie but goodie about wonderous archaeological finds! And pray for my and LB's bones and muscles and sanity.

btw, happy 50th birthday, Gojira! (trivia alert: Godzilla's roar was the sound of a resin-coated leather glove being dragged across a contrabass (double bass)).

Baji, over and *collapse* out.

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