His Name is Jack

Sitting on the porch watching birds:

Harriet:  Are those martins?

Ricky:  Nope, they’re Smiths.  Or maybe Jones’

Today’s Exploit:

I am still trying to unpack.

I am down to 47 boxes of kitchen supplies.

I started out with 5237 boxes.

I have a table and a couch, instead of random pieces of wood.  And I hid almost all my blankets under my bed so I have room in my linen closet for sheets.  

Now I just need some pictures and maybe a rug or two for it to seem like a real home.  

It already has a pumpkin.  

His name is Jack.  He’s a happy vampire.  And he’s guarding my porch, while quickly turning into moldy mush.

I vant to share your milk and cookies.

I’ve never had a pumpkin get mushy so fast.  Stupid humidity.  

Guarding the yard that I can't see.