Samain                                                     Moving Moon

The pack has come together. Kate and Gertie arrived around three. There was a good deal of mutual sniffing and wagging of tails. Kate the Intrepid, as Jane West calls her, dismounted from the cargo van with a victorious grimace. She had driven it all the way, by herself. See.

Jon and crew are coming. He’ll help me clear the driveway for the moving van. This place will soften up, come alive when the furniture is here, the art, the lamps, the books, the pots and pans, the dishes and serving pieces. All in the van. Coming on Monday. A great Hanukkah/Christmas holiday special treat.

Samain                                                            Moving Moon

Tom and I had breakfast at Aspen Perks this morning. All the waiters and waitresses had on elf hats in this mountain cafe just off Highway 285. He had pastry with egg, ham, basil and pesto. I had the Bronco omlette, sausage, bacon and cheese. Back on the low carb way after 24 hours off. As Martin Luther said, “When you sin, sin boldly.”

Tom’s effort, driving out here the entire way while the dogs slumbered, was unremarkable. And in that the best possible result. We got here with no doggie wounds, no almost runaways, not even any agitation. Thanks, again, friend, for a valuable moment in the 27 years we’ve known each other.

I’m still sleep deprived, but not terrible. I have to unload the van, then help Jon shovel the driveway. An Ambien tonight, perhaps tomorrow night and I should be ready for the delivery.

Samain                                                                                     Moving Moon

The moving moon has waned, a sliver this early. It will go dark tomorrow, the Winter Solstice. Our first full day and night here at Black Mountain Drive. Tom Crane, Rigel, Vega, Kepler and I pulled into the garage about 12:15 am this morning. We drove in over several inches of snow, so a first task will be getting the driveway clear for the moving which comes on Monday.

The three dogs slept or rested quietly the whole way. I gave them a trazidone dose at the kennel at 8:30 am yesterday. That calmed them for the first few hours and after that the buzzing of the tires and the constant motion lullabyed them. It was a surprise, but a pleasant one.

Tom drove the whole way, 14 hours in one whack, stopping only briefly for food and gas. It was a great treat to be able to watch the miles roll away.

When I left Anoka after getting the dogs yesterday morning, I crossed the Mississippi at 9 am, realizing as I did that this time I would be not crossing back over it for some months. The Mississippi was now a dividing line between my former homelands east of it and my new one west of it. An American narrative, for sure.

We passed over the Minnesota state line at approximately noon. The state sign, which reads Thank you for visiting made us laugh. Yeah, a forty year visit. But it is now over.

Kate stopped for the night in Lincoln, finding a place where she and Gertie could sleep. She’ll be getting in later this afternoon. Then, the unloading of the cargo van. New tasks in a new place but tasks which, with the exception of clearing the driveway can wait until we’re ready. We have the next several years to get settled here on Shadow Mountain.

Samain                                                                Moving Moon

As the moving moon wanes, so does our presence here. After breakfast and last minute adjustments to our various cargoes, Kate and I will go to Armstrong Kennels to pick up our pack. Armstrong has been a wonderful place for our dogs. We’re remembered there as the customers who “once had five Irish Wolfhounds.”

I feel lighter today, untethered at last from the seemingly endless stream of things and tasks related to packing and getting ready to leave. Over several months now I’ve operated well outside my comfort zone, especially so since the closing on October 31st. There is something positive about working there, but too much for too long. I look forward to getting back to the computer, back to the writing, back to letting my mind wander.

Settling in on Black Mountain Drive will, of course, take time and will not be without its own challenges, yes. But. It will have the added joy of a new life, new eco-system, more time with family. We’re ready for all of that. The upside, the 8,800 feet upside.

Samain                                                        Moving Moon

The van, a large blue and white Stevens Moving Van, parked at our driveway at 8:30 am this morning. Three packers have come and lamps, chairs, boxes, garden tools have begun to disappear from the house, swallowed up by a moving rectangle attached to a powerful V-8.

The packers are a Latino, an African-American and a white guy with a large bushy red beard. I don’t envy them their job, having done it for a week or so when I was 21. It’s heavy, steady, difficult work.

Richard is all business, roaming the house with his clipboard and his role of inventory tags. He has on a coat and a stocking hat, probably the only one on his block in West Palm Beach who owns such clothing. Everything that goes on the truck gets a tag and a note on the inventory page. This is a labor intensive process, no wonder it costs so much.

There is a finality to this day. It puts a large red Ready or Not Here We Go on our foreheads. We are ready.

This morning about 3:30 am I realized we had to take the dog crates in the cargo van. If we don’t, we’d have movers going in out of our new house, up and down the stairs to my loft, followed close by with dogs.