photo by Ed Roberston-unsplash
Sometimes© arlene s bice
Life ‘tis nae easy
at times ye must
become a rubber ball
bounce back an’ forth
with a wee resistance
abide ye time, hold
‘til it fades away
and go on.
Writer. Educator. Artist.
photo by Ed Roberston-unsplash
Sometimes© arlene s bice
Life ‘tis nae easy
at times ye must
become a rubber ball
bounce back an’ forth
with a wee resistance
abide ye time, hold
‘til it fades away
and go on.
And I am still packing! Who snuck in during the night and scattered more stuff to pack? Bathroom, under the kitchen sink, and the top shelf of the spare room closet. Bottom of the office closet. Will it ever end? Stuff I forgot I even had. Chuck it, maybe.
The Captain is settled in his new home with lots of woods to roam around and someone to care for him and put up with his male ego attitude! But, I sure miss him. No one to greet me when I pull into the carport. No one waiting to be fed in the morning and afternoon. Time to move onto new adventures! Farmville, here I come!
How does this happen? How does one person who lives simply, without a lot of tchotchke, have a small house, yet so much to pack up? I’ve been at it every day, sweating like Ali in a boxing match, and still each room has something unpacked. Not one room is completely emptied. My kitchen looks like a pathway between canyon walls with piles of boxes representing the canyons. Yet I donated all my pots, pans, baking and serving trays when I realized I could make this transition to an apartment. I downsized to only 6 plates and no bowls a year ago, using soup mugs for salads, dessert, and duh, soup.. Most serving pieces and fancy dishes are long gone. I no longer entertain, so why keep all of it. I am determined to live simply without all the trappings.
I think the house is cleared of books now that I have taken the last 4 bags to Goodwill on Saturday, unless one pops out from a hiding place. You never know about books. They creep into my life. I do have 2 small piles to be hand delivered to an individual who collects War Between the States books. Mine are from the Army of the North so I’m not sure about handing these over to a Southerner. It is my belief that it is important to know both sides to fully understand the war. I hope he will not destroy them. I don’t think he will.
I am seeing bare walls with little nails sticking out or band-aid looking strips of white that kept my pictures and paintings on the walls. Looks weird. Days are counting down. My goal today is to empty 4 drawers of miscellany that just collected. Wish me luck.
Time is slipping away and I have far to go. I’ve packed 6 boxes in the kitchen, tossed out lots of stuff I haven’t used in a couple years and haven’t opened a drawer yet. Do I take Grandmother’s dishes? Just these few as keepsakes. The rest were donated.
The moving man cannot do the 19th! OMG! He can do the 22nd and that is my settlement date. Won’t work. We talk some more and he can do the 18th. He is a very busy man. All is well. The apartment manager says, yes, the 18th will work. Phew! Close call.
After a fabulous lunch at 313 Franklin Street with my Soul Tribe sharing stories and food, I come home and look around. Time is getting shorter. Will I make it? Back to boxing more stuff and trying to stay calm. Next comes the battle with the Captain. Time for him to go to a new home.
I waited until Friday, the day after the apartment manager returned from his vacation to call. He gave me an appointment to fill out the application on Tues. Whew. My confidence was seeping back in. He filled out the form online that I had trouble connecting, after showing the ground level apartment to me.
I love it! It is much bigger than I anticipated and thickly carpeted. Maybe I won’t have to unpack some of the boxes of books after all. It has a kitchen, pantry, laundry room, dining room, living room with electric fireplace (reminds me of my old book shop), gorgeous bath, a bedroom with walk-in closet and a small alcove room. Wow. This is not the retirement community I thought, it is a family apartment complex filled with mostly adults. My windows overlook the woods and a pond. A walking path meanders along. Tremendous good luck has dropped in while i was doing all that sweating over being homeless. Ha ha. Overlooking the woods. There is no view. I’ve been missing that.
By the time I drove home, my application was accepted! I’m so excited. The little bit I learn about my neighbor tells me we are going to be good friends. I can move in on the 19th of August and settlement is on the 22. Perfect!
Now it is time to pack up most of the kitchen. Again, not as easy as my mind told me it would be. Why is that? I pictured zipping around the kitchen and putting everything into 4 boxes and done! Whoa! I just packed 4 boxes and desperately need this break! I’m soaking wet from perspiration, panting, and there are several more boxes to go. The appraiser is coming at noon and my bed isn’t even made yet. Zowie!
Onward to find a place to live. I looked at another senior living and apartment complex online that seemed even better. I drove there to see for myself. Oh, wow! Really nice. Nothing available. Oh, no! I’m beginning to panic! I don’t want to be homeless at my ancient age! Deep breathing calms me. Remembering my message from my spirit guide-this move is meant to be. Yet the down still sets in.
I talked to the manager. Then I talked some more. He emanates confidence, intelligence, and competence. A people person. Perfect for his position. Even that is a positive for me. Finally, as he goes through his papers, there may be a one bedroom coming available. He will let me know. Maybe.
The next day I drove the nearly 1 ½ hours back again. The telephone just doesn’t do it for me. It looks like an apartment will be available after all. I’m back up to a high.
At home I continue as if I was certain all was going well. Don and Ernie came and treated me to a wonderful lunch at the 313 Restaurant. My choice was Chicken Salad and Sweet Potato Fries. Yum. Conversation with them is always interesting. Before lunch they went over my collection of art work. I will not have room to hang all of it. I know this even though I haven’t seen the apartment yet. They select a dozen to sell in their Oakley Hall Antiques & Art Store in Warrenton (NC). I am content to let these beautiful pieces go to bring someone else the joy of looking at them each day. I can bring them to mind by just thinking of them and the memories of how they came to hang in my homes. I am flying high again!
More to go . . . not in yet!