The world is so small that I bought a house from people who go to church with my former youth group leaders DWB & JHB – aka the only people I know in the state of Georgia.
Isn't that something?
Today was the house inspection, and it is clean as a whistle. I was able to meet the current owners at the end of the house inspection, which probably is frowned upon, a bit like seeing the bride before the wedding. But I'm so glad I met them, as their kindness, support and personal tour of the house ratified that this was really the place for me.
DWB had told me Mr. Seller is a forensic anthropologist, a world-class consultant who is called to some of the most unpleasant sites in the world to assist with identification of remains. Stops on his world tour have included Kosovo, Sarajevo, Phuket and that Georgia "crematorium" where they never bothered to cremate anybody.
I joked with him that his crime-tech buddies probably wouldn't find any clues even if they fine-tooth-combed through this pristine house. "Not a lot of trace evidence here," he said with a nod. "But that's not because of me – she's the neat one." He pointed to Mrs. Seller with pride.
She said she can't stand clutter. I sighed deeply. Clutter is my middle name. But seeing their lovely place has inspired me to be ruthless in what I bring into the house. It's going to be a tremendous challenge for me.
I might have to ask Mrs. Seller for tips. I did have one last question for Mr. Seller – does he watch "CSI" and what does he think of it?
"Funnier than Foxworthy," he said.
Georgia Confidential 
I didn’t realize Foxworthy was funny.
You might want to check for bodies.
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