Opened the very last box today. One of the 6 that we packed in Australia to ship home - the one that had all my most-loved and most-needed kitchen things. My Henckels knives are now fully reunited with each other and snug in their little slotted knife-box on the chopping block, including the kitchen scissors. And I found all the storage things that I was missing, the containers that keep rice fresh and Cheerios from turning into old rubber tires. Oh, it's like Christmas! I feel whole again, and such small things have restored me! A knife set! Crispy breakfast cereal!

The slog to this point has been sloggy. I'm convinced that boxes full of junk are procreating with other boxes full of junk in the night while we sleep innocently, after patting ourselves on the back before bed for having made such progress during the day. They quietly spawn a minimum of 3 new boxes each night, and I'm amazed at what I'm finding: I discovered roughly 3,000 tea lights, flower vases to fit any floral need, and millions of little frames with smiling pictures of people I know and love -- millions of them! A dusting nightmare! And books. Good grief, have we never heard of the library???

Our friend Dave comes by every few weeks and gathers up the boxes for his charity, clearing a huge space in the garage, and within seconds, it's filled back up. It reminds me of Pigpen, Charles Schultz's character who was only able to stay clean and combed for about 5 seconds before his hair popped back into a tangly mess and a cloud of happy dust bounced around him. Sigh.

But progress IS being made. Today the garbage and recycling trucks took the last of the flattened boxes, and I only have a few more items to sell on Craigslist. The guest bedroom is ready for visitors, although I discovered that my touch-up paint is the wrong sheen, and I have a shiny blotches all over the wall, but I choose to present this as intentional -- a non-conformist approach to wall paint.

Our dinghy is our savior, providing an escape in the early evenings that relaxes us and gets us back to the simpler life. Bare feet stretched over the edge of the inflated sides, glass of something cold, or hot, as the weather dictates, and off we go, exploring the neighborhood and seeing what's what in the marina. Max cat has so far not expressed an interest in joining us, although he often sees us off. Allan has taken the sailboat out, but so far I haven't had, or made, a chance. The Santa Ana winds are blowing today, and have eased from strong and petulant this morning to warm and balmy tonight. Maybe tomorrow will be a good easterly wind for a nice sail.

Saturday we carved pumpkins with friends, on big planks stretched over saw horses on the lawn. Seems to me the pumpkins aren't as sloppy and gooey as I remember from my youth. They're more scoop-friendly which was an odd disappointment. But they carved just as stubbornly as I remember, and mine was clumsy and dorky as usual. Allan, on the other hand, created a life-like black widow spider, creepy enough that I didn't want to take it home. We roasted the seeds with butter and Lawry's seasoning salt and munched while we all watched a silly movie.

Thanksgiving nears, and we're making plans to spend the holiday with our families after our two-year absence. A BBQ turkey in the marina is the plan, with Gabels and Gates' gathering for all the usual familial chaos, followed, perhaps, by a walk on the beach.

Oh, and by the way: I'm a new Mac user and am having trouble attaching the fabulous picture of our Halloween pumpkins. iPhoto and I are a bit at odds with each other, to put it mildly. So instead, enjoy a little clip art, representational of our current fleet.