Today we took care of more pre-move business–boring, mundane, but necessary.  Then more packing of boxes.  We’re in serious countdown mode.

It’s hard to get excited when I know my son is struggling with grief, sleep deprivation, depression, and sick kids who must be attended to, all while trying to earn a living to support everyone.  What affects him affects me.  I just hope I can be of some use or comfort when we get there.

On a cheerier note, here is “cookie porn”, by E.  They have M&Ms.  Deadly.

I’ve skipped a couple of days; not much to say.  Today was in the 50s, so we took a walk at Charleston Falls.  The waterfall was very rushy!  There were big stalagmites of ice melting, and the streams were deeper than usual from all the melting runoff.

It will be a relief to leave behind literal sewage backed up into our basement all the time, due to archaic, inadequate infrastructure.  When we report it, people never believe what we live with until they witness it for themselves.  Then they’re astonished that there are those who actually live like this and have no recourse, because we’re poor in a poor area, and nobody gives a f–k.

Likewise with the water, electrical, and power grids and systems that well-off people take for granted–we can’t.  People resign themselves to this neglect, so it’s perpetuated.  Those who can move away do, while those who can’t afford to, make do with scraps and low expectations.

I know that moving and buying a house, taking some control of our situation, are not some magic panacea to life’s dilemmas.  I have no such illusions.  It doesn’t give meaning or purpose to my life.  For me, it’s more like a last minute reprieve from the little hope or prospects I had for surviving what time I have left, for which I’m grateful.

I’ve learned from recent experience not to get my hopes or expectations up too high, because we can never control all the moving parts.  But it’s another chance to start again, on our own terms, not subject to others’ agendas or ignorance, and maybe even get closer to my family in whatever time is left.

I may not get to accomplish anything much in my lifetime, but committing to something, however modest, and seeing it through, has to count for something.

Erev cheers from the Skullies.

Today we officially gave our one month notice to the landlord.  Once again it was a sentimental hugfest.  They (and the cheap rent) have been good to us, affording us a transition period in which to gather our wits and resources to make this all possible.  They’re also relieved to be able to finally unload this building, which was pretty much of a loss for them.

Over at our friend Ron’s shop (with the pony), we arranged for some help moving from people they know.  Another person who had promised to be here bailed on us, but some nice girls from the Tavern agreed to help, so hopefully we’re covered.  This area seems to be notorious for apathetic, unreliable people when it comes to getting help.  I think all the good people already left Ohio for Tennessee!

Here’s Ron’s pony.  It’s sleeping.

As chaotic as a major move can seem, for an OCD chaosphobe (?) like me it can be a great advantage.

There’s no more effective organizing/purging force than having to sort, filter, and prioritize all your crap.  By the time most of it is packed, what you’re left with is the basic essentials of your life, not coincidentally the same items you’ll need first at the other end.  Y’know, coffee, booze, stuffed animals, toilet paper, the important things in life.

Here’s how OCD I am: every box is color-coded for our unloading convenience.  Ten different colors in combination codes, to indicate categories.  Roll your eyes, but I’ll have the last laugh.

It’s always interesting to be reminded of how few actual necessities and important keepsakes there are amidst all the piles of accumulated stuff.  It reduces you to your material essence.  Which of course is very different from your actual nature or core, but it reveals a lot about your priorities.

All systems appear to be GO for liftoff.  The timing and costs will be very tight, and then we’ll have to tighten the belt even more after landing, but we’ll make it.  We’re much more fortunate than the average person in our position.

In keeping with the brooding mood of yesterday, this strange, freakish storm happened last night.  Nothing like this (in E’s memory) has ever occurred here in January.

It was still 54 F at almost 10PM, weird in itself, and frequent lightning strikes kept lighting up the sky.  Then the thunder started. Wind picked up and loud hail-like things were crashing against all the windows at once, to the point that we were sure our thin panes would break. They didn’t, but you could still feel the wind blowing through the apartment.

This continued for a while, then it all simmered down, except heavy rain and wind.  It was the most bizarre, freakish weather for this time of year we’ve ever experienced here, or for that matter, anywhere.  No question climate change is mixing up the natural order.

This morning, dawn made a brave attempt, then yielded to the dark, glowering clouds moving in.  It’s like nature imitating the mood I’m trying to resist and not give in to.  So many changes going on right now, personally, in loved ones’ lives, in the world, and in nature itself, it’s easy to succumb to pessimism, but I have to hope that some good will come of it all.

Today was not a celebratory day, more of a bittersweet one, what with my son’s sad personal event.  Even the weather was tearing up.

We reserved our van and moving truck for the closing and final move, then adjourned to HQ, the Tavern, where we enlisted more moving help from our server girls.  Between several people, we think we’ll have the help we need at this end lined up.

Then we visited our helpful folks at Ravenwood to get some items to “purify” the new premises.

We’ll miss some of the friends we’ve made doing business here.  We’re glad we’ll have a guest room for them to visit.

Any major change in life can be overwhelming and scary, especially starting over later in life.  You just have to take it one mindful step at a time, testing your footing first to avoid slippery slopes of the past.   Most of life is taking chances; you learn in time which to avoid and which ones to seize.

Apologies for this unoriginal metaphor (simile?).  Sometimes life is like a giant washing machine–wash, rinse, repeat, spin, until you’re dizzy, but hopefully purged of most of the crap by the end of the cycle.  Then you get to do it again in the dryer, except not with the drowning.  Or get hung out to dry.  OK, I’m done.  😉

Here is a morning sky trying not to cry but probably not succeeding.  But hey, it’s supposed to be like April in January today, so there’s that.

A certain sad event in my family will be finalized tomorrow, so I’m feeling a bit pensive.  Some things are so final.  But as long as you’re still alive, there’s room for new horizons and perspectives.  I hope we all live to see some.

Here’s the Dark Tower glowering under a pensive sky.

Our apartment looks like a box city with a maze of narrow lanes meandering through it.  But always with the flowers.  We’re coming down to the wire.  Hopefully they get the roof on and other basic necessities before we get there.