Home is where the heart is, right? Dayton has become a distant memory here in Indianapolis. I had moments that tugged the heartstrings, painting out or carpeting over my existence at the old Duplex, as I made the rooms more marketable in neutral colors, and listened to my voice echo on empty surfaces. Duplex was the best thing about living in Dayton, my sanctuary. I'm repeating myself.

But now, if anything, I have no time to do the things I want to do here. Moving boxes and piles of stuff fill every room, much to the dismay of boyfriend. So far, living together has gone well, but for pressure about all the stuff.

Our new neighborhood has a neighborhood association, and Boyfriend has been much more irritating in ingratiating himself with everyone we meet on our daily walks with Grace. But the inane small talk has paid off, and now people know who we are.

The neighborhood association is sponsoring a neighborhood yard sale. We will participate. A corner of the garage has already filled with old clothes, secondary appliances we don't need now that we've "merged", and junk - books, video tapes, cd's.

I'm planning on spending a good portion of the weekend adding to it!