P0006409ew While vouchsafing me only carefully-regulated access to Timbaloo’s kitchen facilities, Valerie did sweetly assure my proper attire on those approved occasions.

Below, a non-stellar image of our even-numbered offspring, although Cindy communing with her Snoopy1 does revive a precious memory.

Mainly, I wanted you to meet the rather banged-up Hide-a-Bed sofa they’re sitting on. It must have been about this time that I ripped out the cranky bed mechanism, replaced the worn-out seat with foam-plastic cushions (under that orange bedspread) resting on a hunk of plywood hinged to the frame,
and turned the whole thing into a very handy toy-box. Thereby facilitating family room cleanup, as I think the kids might still testify.
1By this time, I think, no longer ’Noopy.

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