Still life of a house in Philadelphia

Walking through on a cool Thursday morning in late June

One Birkenstock sandal on a step, the other carried off somewhere by Bruce who effusively greets people with a shoe or a toy in his mouth and a tail on full wiggle

A couch undone, covers cycling through the laundry after an animal puked on it

Untapped potential in the form of a Wi-Fi extender still in the box

A small dog laying on an upside down big dog bed that he has turned over and moved himself

The Chewy box of dog food that arrived today, the food ran out yesterday

Three pair of sunglasses and a pair of reading glasses

Three things by the door set to go back to the shore where neither of us has been for almost two weeks

Exterior waterproofing item that arrived as a quarter of the expected size

A notice for the water meter to be swapped

An tube of daily use Buxom lip balm in inner glow worn down past the nub and set carefully on the counter well over a week ago as an intentional reminder to re-order, no order has been placed

The growing pile of the not glamorous items that are going to Europe like travel Q-tips, Shout wipes, travel tissues, carabiners, and Band-Aids

Three magazines that may or may not ever be perused

Egg pan, coffee pot, and pitcher crowding the sink

Recycling boxes, ungrouped

Two abandoned coffee cups, the smallest dabs left in the bottoms

A collection of items to be taken to the basement and put away that has been walked by over 30 times this week and added to but never acted on

For some reason the shit all over the place not in its home brings to mind the Paul Simon lyric “Scatterlings and orphanages” and while we’re in that song, “You know, I don’t find this stuff amusing anymore”

Fin.