Earthquakes & Hurricanes Welcome Me Home

Contrary to what some people are suggesting, there is no causal or mystical significance of my move back east and the recent natural disasters. The earth is not quaking at the anticipation of my return, and the hurricane that is ripping up the east coast has nothing to do with my penchant for spirals. I am amused, though, by the metaphorical implications of cataclysmic change in my life.

We are quite consumed with the last phase of packing and loading the 28 foot truck that will carry our worldly possessions across the country. 

Steve & Luke = testosterone!

I dream of the moment the truck drives away with all of our belongings, wondering exactly how I would handle it if I never saw the stuff again. Somehow, putting all of my things in boxes and stacking them up in one spot makes it easier to imagine losing it all without attachment.

Here I am, posing as a "fragile basket case" in the staging area for boxes in our garage. Someone I spoke to last week called this the "loose shit" phase - the time when miscellaneous loose shit gets randomly thrown in boxes that defy labeling.

 

I am trying to rest and pace myself. I lay myself down in bed at least twice a day, and it frequently turns into a full-fledged nap. Steve won't let me lift a thing (I'm not sure I could if I wanted to), but my hands still hurt from all the handling of little stuff. I have sorted, shredded, or tossed unimaginable things from the bowels of my closets: report cards from elementary school, journals from seventh grade, recipes from my 1973 college dorm, hundreds of casette tapes, anatomy notes from medical school, my father's death certificate, hideous tchotchkies from my childhood, countless rocks, feathers, and crystals, and a jar with some lump of tissue in formaldehyde that was removed from my arm sometime in the 90s - good grief!

We fly out on Thursday, well after the storm will have passed. A soggy Vermont will welcome us. We have shipped some boxes ahead so that we have "indoor camping" supplies to hold us over until the movers bring our stuff: a blow-up bed, kitchen stuff, some clothing, sheets, towels, blankets, and other basics. We sold one of our cars and shipped the other. We'll rent a car at the airport and will keep it until ours arrives. In our new life we hope to only have 1 car. With Steve's office 1/2 mile from home, and living "downtown" on a bus line, we think it's worth a try. We kept the Subaru, so we're prepared for the winter, but there's no way for us to prepare for any other natural disasters while in transition. Let's hope that Mother Nature calms down and lets us get settled in our new home before another cataclysm.