Some things are still not done. I ordered a couple of rugs for Lera's room, but they didn't arrive yet. On the weekend, we somehow received a lot of other packages, and now five big cardboard boxes are standing around the living room, waiting for Sonny to break them and put in the recycling.
Tomorrow a truck from the Salvation Army will arrive and, hopefully, pick up my old sectional couch. I say: "hopefully", because it's old and decrepit, and they might not want it. I'm planning to get rid of it anyway and buy a new sleeper sofa, in case if we get a crowd of people in here some other time.
I wonder, what Roberta is thinking about her quiet refuge turning into a thoroughfare! She didn't express any misgivings to me directly, but I can see some signs of ... what? ... fear? ...
It will be a little different from our established routine, I grant you! For once, Roberta has gotten used to tag with me to every errand and ride that I do and take. What will Lera think, if we can't get any time to talk alone, or talk in Russian, as would be natural for us to do? She will also have to make allowances for Roberta's old age and habits.