Moving Out

Not really, but I am moving from my bedroom into the master bedroom (hence Glenice painting). Friday was the day I moved The Shalvis Shrine. Permits were issued, and the police cordoned off the area. First the security system was turned off, the drawbridge was lowered over the piranha stocked moat, and the hounds of hell were leashed. Each book was carefully removed from the shelf, meticulously dusted off, laid carefully on the velvet pillow and escorted to the next room by a couple of buff Brinks Security guards. The slightly charred remains of the bear and goose effigies were moved and placed in their new cases. Next the voodoo dolls representing everyone who has ever criticized a Shalvis book, followed closely by the bobblehead dolls and the box of sacrificial Thin Mints. The portrait was easy, but the candles had burned down so that their wax adhered to the marble altar. Finally the Persian kneeling rug was laid out in front of the new shrine and the security systems re-engaged. What? Doesn’t everyone have a Shalvis Shrine?