Way to go, St. Joe...

Okay, so the house is getting a decent number of showings--about 5 so far and it only went on the market Tuesday. Most people are saying it's too small, which I find interesting, but maybe it's just my new Simple Living perspective, in which I don't see the point of having a huge mansion to clean up every damned day. We're actually going to be going down in living space at the new house, and down in lot size, too. But I digress.

Maybe I should've gotten the St. Joseph statuette instead of the St. Joseph icon card, but see, I read you're supposed to use the Family Version of St. Joe, not the Workman Version, and all the Family Version statues were butt ugly (sorry, Joe, but they were) and since after the house sells I have to put St. Joe in a "place of honor" in the new house, I needed something either 1) a lot nicer or 2) a lot uglier. So I got the card, cause Hey! It can go on the fridge. That's a place of honor chez SBFH. All the good artwork goes there, along with my Anne Taintor magnets and the one that has a picture of Bush with the quote "I am the master of low expectations."

But. Here's what I'm getting to. The card won't go down all the way into the dirt, so Joe's feet are sticking out. I didn't think that mattered, but I might need to go out and get him in there properly. Because after yesterday's first showing, I came home to my newly staged and cleaned and cookie-candled and classical-music-ed house to find A DEAD MOUSE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BASEMENT.

None of you told me that Saint Joseph was the patron saint of practical jokers.