Stranger in a Moderately Familiar Land

I'm writing tonight from a new place.

I've assumed the role of dog and house sitter for a few days, and I haven't been in this position for years. I did a fair amount of it, four or five times, when I was in college and occasionally since, but this is the first for years.

I like it.

This is a much nicer and fancier home than mine, with many things that I can break. I never used to worry about that, but I guess responsibility means more to me now. Also, much of this home is newly redecorated and I'd rather not be the one associated with the first stain or chip.

What's great about housesitting is it's like camping out. Only, camping out in somebody's else's home. One assumes they have everything needed for living, but what I like is having no idea where anything is. Kitchens are the biggest challenge.

For example: scissors. I assume they have one, everybody does. The thing is, much like moving into a new place, where would you put them? The thing that makes this more exciting is that the couple for whom I'm providing the service isn't me. It matters not where *I* might think a pair of scissors should go, it all depends on where they put it.

There are a million such delightful mysteries awaiting me. I'm not sure I'll be able to pull myself away from all the reading that beckons me to solve them all, but it will give me a good time and prevent boredom.

Also, they have a deck, and word has it I can blog from there!