No furniture moved last night. Mom came home from day hunting and put a teeny tiny chicken in the hot-as-hell-box for dinner. We both ate very well.
Mom says the treadmill will soon be getting a new home, and the big boxes of books will go away next week. In the meantime, she's working on cleaning the tables in her sewing room.
Naturally I have to snoopervise here too.
Answers to questions in comments:
Karen: No "formal" freecyling. We just live on a busy street.
Hannah and Lucy: No chance of me getting packed away. I never get in boxes.
Cherie: No, it's the other leg, the one with the black "leg-warmer" spot.
Margaret: Thank you.