Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Moving out of California


Well, the ether-net ate my prose. Not a good start for this blog. I had concocted some witty lines about stuffing our lives into boxes until late last night, then having the movers pack things so it LOOKS packed.


And how Grover was in the garage, peeing in his non-existent pants, wary of new voices, afraid of intruders he couldn't see. Yesterday we picked up our bikes, boxed by the shop, and I hope the boxes are enough protection... the movers will sign off on them in the morning.


I made the rounds today - to my friends at the dump, at Goodwill, at the post office counter at Raley's. I heaved rickety, moldy-hay pallets, broken ceramic pots and random wire. I returned used batteries to collection bins. I begged the library's forgiveness for six movies, mostlyBBC mysteries, that accidentally got packed and will be several weeks overdue. I returned a 350-lb grain barrel to the feed store for a deposit. And then I got Thai food to bring home.


The fog (above) was sudden and tremendous this evening. The day began with thick fog, but then the fog teased us and lurked at the far end of the pasture, surging and weaving, approaching and retreating. As soon as the dark came, it rushed in close and obscured most livestock on the side of the road. Like 19th century London, I imagine.


Tomorrow more of the same for us. Florida hasn't really set in yet, and it probably won't until I have sand in my shoes. Amy arrives the third; I arrive the eighth.


Cheers...

B+A