Samain Moving Moon
99% of our worldly goods are now stuffed into a moving van, probably sitting right now at a truckstop while Richard sleeps. The house is empty, but messy, the detritus of 20 years suddenly revealed under some furniture. A forlorn feeling, standing in the living room empty of rugs, bookcase, couch, dog toys, the grand piano, dogs. Us.
Today we have to load the cargo van, adjust the seat and steering wheel for Kate, wash the dog bedding, finish up the disclosure statement and send it by Fedex to Margaret Richards, our Realtor, along with the flash drive containing Ode’s book pitching our landscaping to potential home buyers.
We stayed here at the Best Western last night and came here yesterday for a nap, too. It feels a bit naughty, checking into a motel in your own town.
We no longer live at 3122 153rd Ave. NW, Andover, MN, 55304. Though we still own it and are responsible for it. Right now, we’re living, as I heard Bill Schmidt say Sunday, between the worlds, neither in Minnesota nor Colorado.
Feelings are clearer now. Sad about having an empty house, glad about being at this stage. Watching the movers disassemble various items means having to reassemble them at the other end. Jon, fortunately, and Kate, are good at such things.
