I've been away from the bloggacious keyboard for so long now that it feels strange to be posting again. But here I am pecking away at the little plastic curved, truncated pyramids marked with alphanumeric symbols. (Being away does not allow you make up for it with needless verbosity. -Ed) Shut up, Ed.
It nows appears that Verizon has got my user ID all straightened out so, those of you who know what it is can e-mail me with confidence. Do it with zest and brio as well. I like zestful and briotic e-mail.
What's the cause of all the Lack O'Blogging (my Irish name)? My move of course. I am ensconced in my new place and as my brother noted, it already seems more home-like than the rental I was in for lo these many years. Word to the wise: if you live in the DC suburbs, buy now if you possibly can. Real estate is insane and unlikely to become less so in the next several years. Just as a ferninstance, the town of Reston is now fully built out. Let me say that again: fully built out. There is no more land on which to construct more housing in all of Reston. Certainly, houses will go up on tear-downs and I expect some zoning density changes over time. But not much.
There's way too much NIMBY, dog-in-the-manger, I-got-mine-so-screw-you in Northern Virginia to allow for any significant increases in zoning density in Reston. But logic dictates (Ha ha ha! -Ed)... I said, shut up, Ed. Logic dictates that at least a few changes will be made to both accomodate demand and to make money for the vast real estate machine that takes great, gnashing bites at the lovely countryside.
And thank God for that. A wonderful part of that machine helped me get my new home. I never thought I'd love a bunch of people in that biz but the Jan and Dan (and Bill and Anne and Mitch) are at the top of my Valentines list.
Now that the kissy-face is done, back to the move. Sweet blistering Jebus. Without the expensive help of professional movers and the astounding help of my brother, who will be known as Festus here because that will preserve his anonymity as much as possible, I never would have been able to get my growing mountain of possessions out of the old place. Yikes. Superfetation of crap. Metaphorically speaking - metaphoric crap, not metaphoric superfetation. But I now have the chance to spread out all the decades of acquisition and weed through it. Keep the good and the sentimental and sell or donate the rest. It ain't gonna be easy.
I could go on. But for my return to the blog, I'll tie off this bleeder now. Thanks for asking for my return you knuckleheads. I hope I can keep you entertained with more blather in the near future.