Holy mother of all things green....I am sitting in my living room which is piled high with everything from two rooms, including the dollhouse. Somewhere behind this mountain of mayhem is the bottom half of my kitchen. There is a path back to the knives and forks and if I stretch, I can reach the frying pan. The only thing left in our kitchen is the fridge and the stove from the waist down. The island is gone, to be replaced with a newer but smaller version and the dishwasher is now in the big yellow roll-off dumpster. That rolls out of our driveway tomorrow to be replaced by the roofing crew arriving next week. That's just an overnight stay. Now I know why the hobos love to live in these things, there's enough old building materials and scraps to build a fair size lean-to somewhere deep in that pile of cast-offs. And if you flipped the thing over you could have the ultimate nuclear bomb shelter. Just shut the door and you're surrounded by inch thick steel. Maybe I'd get roasted alive but, it would definitely block out the sounds of hammering, sawing and plumbing, cussing, cursing, and whatever the hell that tool does...geesh...ear piercing... But, the bathroom has walls! OK....so that's all it has. But, hey, it's better than yesterday when it had no walls at all. I could sit on the pot, open the back door and wave at Frank as he goes by with his leaf blower. I'm pretty sure he would have waved hello.