Speaking of which, the basement disaster has made Laura and me feel better about the fact that we have to move before the middle of January. Yes, the landlord managed to sell the house for right around his megabuck target. Bully for him, you know? Twelve days on the market—the realtor only showed the place once, and even then the apparent buyer only looked at the back yard. This is not the action of someone who plans to fix up the house and continue renting it out.

So our landlord is a freshly minted millionaire, and we're moving. C'est la vie.