Today marks 6 months.
I am going to commemorate it by eating the other half of a frozen pizza Tim had made himself from scratch, dough and sauce to boot. I found it last week. It'll probably taste like a mastodon chipped from the tundra of Siberia but throwing it out just doesn't seem right. Too salty for the vegetable garden compost, certainly not something the dogs may have ("no means no"), so I'll eat it. If I'm unpleasant to be around while I do all of the lifting of the boxes and furniture during our office move tomorrow I'll have an excellent excuse (but without apologies).