On the eleventh day of December,
Most of the laundry is packed.
Books have found a temporary home
And the boxes are neatly stacked.
How many things there are to do,
When a house you must vacate.
So many things to remember –
They are wearying my pate!
Now off to bed I must hurry,
Since early I am to rise.
Signing off to the sounds of the dog,
Talking sisters, and a baby’s weary cries…
To the KING be all the glory!
I’m glad you guys are getting lots done! :D
~Jamie