Not a funny night

The bed socks for my mother are done, as is the mini-Clapotis I made for myself. For once I have nothing on the needles, and also for once that's probably a good thing because I'm wrapped in some intense family drama involving an aging parent, a step-parent with a dubious agenda for aforementioned aging parent, a white elephant of a house that won't sell, incompetent movers, and some disturbing hoarding behavior on the part of both the aforementioned aging parent and the step-parent. You know something is wrong when you have to smuggle bags of empty glass jars, empty plastic milk jugs, broken but allegedly still repairable gadgets, etc. home to your own trash can because if you leave them there, they will get put back in the piles of stuff to be moved to the new house. I don't think I'll be looking at the knitting needles for the next few days until I have a better handle on this situation.