The end. The door closes. We begin our new, simpler life in the little house in the country.

Having survived the great Amazon Scam which infiltrated Larry’s computer, the Debit Card Scam wherein someone gained access to the Farm’s debit card and bought fifty-nine dollars of make-up. (The bank declined two other attempts at the card but somehow let this one through. The make-up purchase is under investigation. A debit card, bank-people. Don’t you have to know the code to use it?)

Okay, the “Simple Life” continues tomorrow, when we get up and drive to Portland for a performance at Center Stage with the White-Davises. Spend two nights in a hotel in town so that I/we don’t have to drive there again for the Tuesday evening Book Tea.

We won’t know what to do in Portland during those two days when we don’t have the condo, I worry. No, Larry says, we can go to a MAC store and get his computer straightened out. We can get that replacement glass chimney for the lamp in the bedroom. You can go to the fabric outlet. We’ll get the Bose speaker fixed.

You can learn how to have fun in Portland, Vik says. We’ll take you to a movie. But . . .

Simple?

We spent Thanksgiving in Seattle with the Ederers and the Peter Viehls. Eleven of us, enjoying Jenny’s new house, Tom’s spatch-cocked turkey, all five grandkids being cute and beautiful and funny. It is confirmed that stuffing requires Jimmy Dean sausage in the formula, and that pumpkin pie and mincemeat pie are well augmented by pecan pie.

Just now it’s December 3. Larry is coming in from moving potted plants into the greenhouse. Pulling up the spent flowers in the garden. Ricardo and his crew have been mowing the lawn, raking leaves, dead-heading plants to complete the job started two days ago, before the snow got too heavy.

Here’s the antique clock we hauled down here (I mean, the movers hauled it) because we didn’t know what else to do with it. It looks pretty weird in the corner of the living room — and it doesn’t work. So? In our bedroom? Well? First, of course, we won’t make it stand on the coasters, which look like little slippers or something. We’ll have it fixed, and then decide if we can sleep through the ticking and the on-the-hour gongs.

Just for fun this afternoon, Larry put together a swing for the chickens. This was inspired by a note from Kathy Abraham with a link to instructions. Chickens get bored, too, as you may not be aware, and ours definitely need some diversion. I do understand the concept of pecking order, and Grace takes it quite seriously. They’re all molting now, not laying eggs, so a little recreation seems appropriate. Larry does roll his eyes, but how cute is this?

I’ll thread some beads on the rope, if I can find some large enough. And if I ever see a chicken swinging on it, I’ll grab a photo and post it. Thanks, Kathy!

This afternoon the truck from the moving company drove up with the two reading lamps which had failed to appear with all the other boxes and packages. We were sure we hadn’t left them in the condo, but then we were also sure we hadn’t left my green dress and fleece jacket there either. (Fortunately out agent, the fabulous Susan Suzuki, had retrieved them and we could collect my wayward clothes from her office on the way to Seattle.) The lamps weren’t so easily recovered, as it seems they’d been hidden behind some packaging and had travelled to Palm Springs and back in the movers’ truck before being discovered.

This evening we met Allen down by the gate. He’s made a box for package delivery on the outside of the gate to replace the plastic bin currently serving duty. The box was created with wood from one of the many fallen oaks on the property. He’ll mount it tomorrow afternoon, and when I get back from you-know-where I’ll take a photo and send it next time.

Allen offered to help Larry fix the actual gate sections to new, heavy, steel posts, which should work to correct the problems illustrated in my last post. Allen is maintenance of the best kind — you’ve met him and his massive machinery in earlier posts, and you remember that he’s the bee guy, too?

Larry and I have succumbed to another round of Great British Baking show, but tonight we have a fire, candles, the two new lamps and two good books to entertain us. We can catch the GBBS while we’re tucked into the hotel tomorrow evening. Pretty sure they won’t have an oak fire blazing in the fireplace to tempt us otherwise.