Coming soon to you from a record store near Baghdad, direct from their sold-out tour of Iraq, it’s the group that’s been mind-sweeping the nation, please give it up for Hans Blix and the Inspectors: I-N-S-P-E-C-T, tell me where those warheads be—Well, so what if they can’t find a dirty bomb, they’ll find a way into your hearts with songs like this: I’ve been looking for scuds in all the wrong places or I want to hold your…Hans—Apologies to the Capitol Steps

Well, they found 99 problems and WMDs ain’t one. We hosted a building inspector, and a pest inspector to give the place the old once over. The long and the short of it was that they did not find anything that we need to do anything about, at least according to our realtor. Yes, we have pests and water damage and toilets that flush too much water, but none of that will be our problem. We have now checked that box. I have 98 problems and WMDs still ain’t one.

Yesterday, we launched Chris across the state to where Frank and Kathy live. He rented a U-Haul and carted a bunch of his stuff there. Around about T minus 60 in the countdown though there was a hiccup, and I was afraid that we had a SpaceX situation on our hands, but eventually, he was good to go and was soon on his way. Anne and I were exhausted by then, so we went out-to-lunch at Hops & Fog again in Pacific Grove. We shared a small lemon and artichoke pizza along with a tomato and watermelon side salad. I had a glass of an excellent local pinot noir. Afterwards, we extended our stay there and walked along the coast as the evening’s fog enveloped us. The local fishing fleet was marshalling for a night of squid fishing as we left. On a clear night, we can see them out on the water from the house. With bright lights blazing the boats lineup in two parallel rows and attract the squid to the surface between them.