Chasing Julia

    The last time I packed up to move I was in the little white rental house,
just behind the enormous church that I got married in. In the middle of a transition,
I lived with borrowed furniture, little of my wardrobe and even less for my 3 boys.
Moving was a four hour experience and was done with friends.
     Come this August,  I have to pack up a house with 5 bedrooms, an entire store full
of sporting equipment dating back to my tennis days in the 1970's,  antiques and a baby grand.
I've started interviewing moving companies.  There is, "Two Men and A Truck"-who usually send three or four men, "Vic's"- who gives six reasons why I should choose them,  and "Always Helpful Movers"-rated # 1 on anglelist.com.  These are my favorites if only because of their names. 
     How do you really pack up 21 years of your life, and the entire lives of your younger sons, plus the memories of all the activities that went in and out of our home?  Dirty baseball boys, piano teachers,
stinky hockey gear.  Live Christmas trees. Fake Christmas trees. Even a bamboo Christmas tree created straight from the garden. Term papers lost. Term papers found. "Mom!!! Have you seen my keys?"
     I took this picture the other day. It's the view from my office. I'll miss the people of my block, my
neighborhood, most of all.  So here's to you Jane, Audrey, Cathy, Kim, Karen, Sherry, Marilyn, Candy, Carol and Connie. To Bill, Mike, Tom, Clay, P.J. and the rest.  Thank you.  For all your friendship, your help, your garden tools and ladders. May the legacy of the Pawnee Culture Club live on.  And may you find a pillow to rest your head down with me in Costa Rica.