  urlLink How cute! (not. ) All rowhouses in this enclave have essential equipment which this one sadly lacks. Softscaping that Mr. and Mrs. Verynice did before their departure is still in place (for lack of funds on our part), but my neighbors regard me with suspicion at times (my vocabulary? the extra-wide personal space that I insist upon maintaining? some odor that I cannot detect which swirls about me ominously?
), and I'm sure it's because their surreptitious peeks within the windows of the rowhouse show a dearth of: &nbsp; PRECIOUS MOMENTS FIGURINES. How I loathe these hideous, Aryan, bobbleheaded little ceramic people who dare to stand beneath the eye of God and quote His word! Yet Mrs. Verynice had a whole display of them --&nbsp; she took the mini shelves from the alcove and left the holes -- and I've seen them elsewhere on this block. &nbsp; SPORTS MEMORABILIA. If you've read my post on exercising, you can imagine how I feel about sports (apart from cliff diving and ice hockey -- occasionally). Besides, Philly teams&nbsp; always choke at the last minute -- everyone knows this, so the effort of caring&nbsp;is not worth the pathetic&nbsp;result.
LARGE FLUTED MAUVE VASES OF UGLY SCULPTURAL&nbsp; PHALLIC FAUX FLOWERS IN THE WINDOW. Essential. Yet eschewed by yours truly. LITTLE UGLY GEESE ON COUNTRY PLAQUES HANGING ON THE DOOR. Okay, I've bowed a little to this one -- we have to keep property values up. There is a "let freedom ring" wreath on the door now, with an ugly doll on the wreath -- it was the best I could do.
POPCORN CEILINGS. It's not my fault! Mr. and Mrs Verynice had these done. MAUVE RUGS. See above. BIG WINDOW TREATMENTS, CUSTOM.
Mr. and Mrs. Verynice left these behind in the bedroom -- only because they're attached to the wall.&nbsp;They are room-darkening so you can't see your hand in front of your face. Sometimes I pretend I'm in a sensory deprivation tank until I hear a ghetto stereo blaring in from outside. But Mrs. Verynice took everything else -- down to the last tack -- just like the Grinch did when he invaded Whoville at Christmas. PLAID FURNITURE, BROWN. Mine, a floral formal with a complementary rose diamond wingchair in satin,&nbsp;strives to be sort of Williamsburg-living-room circa 1779, but I've got slipcovers over everything because Fatboy and P are destructomatic. BIG WEDDING PHOTO, CUSTOM FRAMED.
We couldn't afford a wedding album, so if you want to see a picture of the Hot Nuptials of 1991, you have to go digging. LACQUER FURNITURE. I absolutely detest this -- put gold trim on it and I'm in my stepmother's living room circa 1986. I can't deal with the flashbacks, so I go for a good faux wood composite myself. SERIOUS CONSOLE BED with MATCHING APPOINTMENTS. Our bedroom: matress and boxspring on floor, assorted sheets.
Bureau #1: S's grandparents, peeling veneer, circa 1930 Bureau #2: Sis-in-law's parents, light brown modern, circa 1960 Bureau #3: see #1 Wardrobe #1: see #2 Wardrobe #2 (door missing): Garage of Anonymous Rowhouse, rejected by Mrs. Verynice Something we have in the anonymous rowhouse that I did not see in any of the houses we toured with a view toward purchase: BOOKS. &nbsp; 
