Movin' On - last strokes

Moving into new digs? Highly over-rated.
No salt.
No Toilet paper.
No garbage can.
No peanut butter.
Where's the list of "things to buy" - rumpled and usually lost and we can't find a pencil.
There's an "echo" in the main floor - a couple of weak lamps trying to cheer us up.
Don't need an ISP! These townhouses are so close together, we're just using everyone else's.
First night in new beds worked good. Slept and slept and slept.
Unpacked the few boxes we'd saved from our old life. Threw out a lot of stuff. ("What the hell did I save that for?")
Went golfing in an unexpected glorious afternoon. Played so bad we got the giggles.
It felt strange last night to walk back and forth from #12 to # 8. The street lights shining down through the red leaves of the little trees. Red and yellow leaves strewn everywhere.
#12 is ready for maid service. Looks just like it did when we moved in.
#8 needs a lot of work. A lot of work.
So we're heading out. Let's see. Home Outfitters. I guess that's where we'll start.
Now where's that list?