Sort, pack, sell, get stressed out, drink too much wine, rinse and repeat. That sums up my recent routine. In less than two weeks we will be out of our Pacific Northwest home of fourteen years and off to the Sonoran desert south of Tucson. Moving cross country is a big, fat, hairy deal thank you very much.
Last year at precisely this time I was about to have major surgery yet again. I would never have believed we would be about to embark on this new chapter. Such is life. Filled with surprises, good and bad.
One day in early 1999 when the concrete in the garage had just been poured, my then fiancée carved a small gift for me. I saw it again yesterday as I cleaned up after the whirlwind of a garage sale. My last name was not yet his, but I got a kick out of seeing our initials this way.
At this very moment we are enjoying a wicked good St. Angel triple cream Brie and one of the finest Chardonnays on the planet earth, Marcassin. The peak of gorgeous summer weather has arrived. I feel lucky even if all my stuff is stuck in a box for six months and the cats are crazy.