California

We spent Thursday afternoon waiting on the court-appointed conservator, a sloppy woman dressed in an unattractive sleeveless knit shirt and shorts, to meet us at the house and deliver a set of keys. If I'd had to guess her profession, I'd have said she had retired as a dishwasher for a diner. She was to meet us in "half an hour" but she did not arrive until an hour and a half after our call. She is a loser from all perspectives.

Yesterday, we went through boxes and boxes and boxes, finding mostly old papers that should have been shredded and discarded years, even decades, ago. But there were some very interesting photos here and there and some information that revealed a family history of good fortune and pressed luck.

We did get out for lunch at The Russian River Pub, which was a delight, despite the traffic. We needed the break.

Dinner last night was at a Mexican fast-food joint down the street. Then we went to Trader Joe's to pick up a few odds and ends. We'll go back this morning to buy sushi, which we'll take over to the badly neglected house and put in the refrigerator until lunchtime.

I'm astonished as how badly the house has been treated. After, and perhaps long before, my mother in law died, her son who lived with her just let the place go to hell. It's a shame. It was a decent little house. Now, it will cost a fortune, that no one in this family has, to rehab it. So, the old place will probably be put on the market "as is," and it will fetch a fraction of the price it should.

I wish I could spend six weeks here, just cleaning up the house and yard. At least some cleaning and a coat of paint would help bring it back to its glory days.