I Love A Parade

Beltane                                                                 Summer Moon

The Parade of Realtors is two thirds finished. The one today offered a much better number than our first one, while at the same time being more professional and believable. That’s a winning combination for me. She’s a friend of Kate’s and mother to a long time friend of Jon’s. We have one more Realtor to meet, then we’ll choose and begin to do what they think we need to do to sell our house next spring at the best possible price.

Of course, between here and there is a path lined with a lot of cardboard and sweat equity, not to mention real estate perusal in Colorado. Next Monday we meet with our financial planner and will discuss with him how much if any capital it might make sense to withdraw to support our purchase. That and a number we anticipate from the sale of this house will define the parameters of our search.

Since making the decision a little over a month ago, we’ve made concrete step after concrete step, each one headed west toward the Rockies. And each one makes a bit more excited. Living in the move, instead of Minnesota or Colorado, has let me go with the process as it flows, allowing my daily actions to flow with it, rather than struggling against difficulties. So far that seems to be working fine.

A Morning

Beltane                                                                         Summer Moon

Mulching a hosta bed, a bed of grasses, some newly planted begonias and a few perennials. The cooler air, 63 degrees, made the task pleasurable.

When finished, to the Latin. Ay, carumba! Just as I patted myself on the back for having made strides almost long enough to work on my own, five verses came up that were almost as opaque as if they had been written on black paper. That was Friday. Today I hoped a layoff might have filtered them into easier chunks. It does sometimes happen that way for me. Nope.

At that point I found some empty boxes and began filling them with books. I got a good ways along, filling up three boxes, hard cover fiction, paperpback fiction and a box I’ve started for Margaret Levin. She likes fantasy and science fiction.

In both the Latin and the packing I did encounter an obstacle and it’s one I encounter when the dogs dig under fences and dig up garden beds. A sort of weariness comes over me, a sense that I’ve done this work before and now I have to do it again. And then again. And then again. This feeling saps me of resolve and short circuits decision making so that translation and choosing books to discard become seemingly impossible tasks. This is not, I imagine, peculiar to me, but when it hits, it slows whatever I’m doing down. A lot.

It will pass and the tasks will become easier and more tractable.

How others see us

Beltane                                                             Summer Moon

This from docent friend Allison:

I especially liked this wall art that I saw on a random building on a random street on a random day in LA.  The guy reminds me of Charlie…and that 
makes me smile.

 Charlie