So yes, I moved. I packed up my car with all my stuff, reported in with Canada (bye! don’t let the door hit you on the way out!) and moved in.
So did the snow.
Then I was snowed in. Because of the snow. And the steep steep hill. And an appalling dearth of snowplows. It was sort of peaceful until the propane tank ran dry. And then it got cold.
But there was this weird sense of denial that I had, of enjoyment of the fact that I had little and was making due with A Chair and A Bed and a package of rice cakes and some butter. It was a new experience, much like my transient homelessness last summer.
It was quiet, too. There’s a lot to hear in quietness. So I listened. Am still listening.
Two more days until the new year. Another beginning, and and ending. More change is ahead. We’re all thinking about the symbolism of change now as we move from one year to the next. I have no idea where I’ll be, not in any sense of the word, a year from now. Most years I can see ahead down the path somewhat. This one? Not at all.