Friday, April 3, 2009
Moving Toward Departure
Yes, it's that time, the time of obsessing over boxes and dreaming of the road. The other night I dreamed we had to get three vehicles back to Michigan with only two drivers, so you see I am using 'dream' in the general, not romantic, sense of the word. Then, re boxes: Boxes are one thing, and shipping boxes quite another. To pack books (we have acquired books, no surprise, and many of them are heavy), banana boxes will not do (too heavy), and to ship books liquor boxes (marked as holding glass containers) won't get past the postmaster's eye. --Not that we have liquor boxes lying around the house, understand, but liquor and beer and wine boxes are so sturdy and such good sizes, not to mention easily obtainable, that the temptation is great. But no! Resolutely--and yet somewhat hopelessly, too, because we’ve been on this quest before--we start haunting the backs of stores in search for appropriate cardboard treasure. Yesterday we were outraged to come around the corner of a shopping mall and see bundles of compacted, flattened boxes on pallets! How could they?
Last week was a year since Donnie died, he whose house we have occupied this winter, with his two old dogs as frequent visitors. A small group gathered on the bridge to toss long-stemmed roses into the outgoing tide at sunset, and dear little doggie Ida plunged in to swim after the roses. We’ll miss Ida and Weiser. We like to think they may miss us a bit—and little Saripeka, too.