Larry Thack’s pretty sure his religion instructs him to “meet no Pete” on Fridays during Lent. Sorry Pete.

So it’s time for ‘ol Thack to find a new place to live. I can no longer afford my housekeeper who incidentally frightens me, and I figure it’d be easier just to move than fire him.
I’ve looked at a few houses around town but maybe it’s time I went with something easier to maintain as I have reached the age where I repeatedly fall off the roof whenever the gutters need a scooping. Also the house swallows have re-inhabited the Christmas wreaths on my porch and laid eggs in their putrid nests. Now I have to wait until the hatchings before I can clean up that dread holiday. Taking out the garbage has become a challenge. My giant rolling can weighs triply what my scraps do. It’s a weekly struggle dragging it to the curb through a minefield of wet newspapers that look like speedbumps yet act as battlefield trenches. Things like that keep weighing me down domestically. I guess it’s time I search for something easier, perhaps an apartment.
I will miss the privacy. When someone comes a knocking’, I currently retreat to many safe spots inside my home. Within an apartment I would have to stay motionless and quiet if a caller comes inquiring. I am also troubled by the closeness of my neighbors. I fear an uninterrupted crawling of the skin just knowing these strangers are just feet away. But possibly I would spend my days going for coffee with my new millennial friends as the brochures suggest.
The pros are many but if I can just get the cons down to twice as much as the pros I may manage to remain properly discontented with things thusly adhering to the wishes of my Pentecostal mother. I can hear her comforting words still, “Jesus frowns on you my child, we all frown”. Her comforting words help me sustain the noble frown on my face through these trying days.