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Thinking ahead of the game. Get ahead of the wave. Get out in front. You snooze, you’re a loser.

What do the above sayings share in common?

They’re all butchered you say? Right. But dig deeper. Think outside the box.

They all encourage you to be the first one.

Not bad advice.

Stop your grousing. Of course it makes sense. Can pigs fly?

Now that, that, doesn’t make sense.

My life is fixing to be full up with new things right about tomorrow and the rest of this calendar week. New place to lay my head (figuratively speaking, since I am working on almost two months of sleeping upright) and new place to spend my days as I begin a new job tomorrow. I will be sure to stay grounded by keeping my commitment to post daily in this little blog.

Has anybody else read the children’s book Rabbit Hill? I loved that book as a child and I still love the book in my adulthood. In this book, the animals that live near a house are all filled up with gossip about the new folks who are moving in. The animals wonder if the new folks will be planting folk, as in planting a new garden or if they will put out good garbage for them to forage through.

Whenever I think of doing something new, I think of Rabbit Hill and the animals’ refrain of new folks comin’.

Thought I’d share that tidbit ~ while I prepare to have lots of new things in my life.

My days are filled up ~ eating savory salty smoked salmon, while watching out for the bones ~ watching a newly released movie about good guys and bad guys, acted out with good and sort of good looking actors ~ eating creamy tangy cambozola soft cheese smeared on fancy crackers sprinkled with seeds ~ sorting and sifting through years of bygone memories, some good some not so good but all gone by ~ packing clothes, some designated for work, some outgrown but hoped to fit again soon once I shrink in girth, some fancy and some just soft and pretty ~ eating bright red ripe strawberries, cut in half by someone other than me ~ riding in cars driven by others, from one place to another and then back again ~ drinking piping hot strong coffee, made mahagony colored with heavy half n’half, drank from a fine china cup and placed back in its matching saucer ~ listening to others talk on telephones with their loved ones ~ hearing the non-stop basketball games, with no favored team ~ sorting and packing ~ watching dust motes swirl up in the pale sun lit room, from which I will very soon leave for the last time ~

Days filled up with doings ~

This morning I am engaging in a little magical thinking. Like, if I think I am all packed up and ready to go, I am. Like, if I think I am already moved into my next transient-home-to-be, I am. Like, if my room is all set up, including blow-up bed, blown up and ready to go, it is.

But the problem is that I get to about that place where the blow-up is blown up and ready to go, and I balk. I start thinking that if I was truly capable of magical thinking, then I would – hopefully – be wishing for something better than a blow-up bed. Right? It is true though that humans have limited vision for ourselves and our world. But that’s a post for another day.

Today I am too busy thinking small. Thinking about what’s right in front of me in the moment. And what’s up close and personal, is a whole lot of sorting and packing needing to be done. And baby, there ain’t no magic wand to help a sister out.

So I’d best get crackin’ and get on with my packing ~

This past week or so, as I have gone about busily sorting and packing, and not sorting and packing while feeling guilty that I wasn’t sorting and packing, I have paused and declared, out loud, something that I will miss when I move from The Pound. This exercise in recognizing and naming the soon-to-be-missed thing is intentional.

In the past, I have sometimes been broadsided by missing some thing that used to be, or that I used to have or experience, but never gave a second thought to. Particular things that enriched my life, or filled the corners, or added a splash of color or spice to an everyday moment. In the past, I did not realize that a place had become more my home than a faraway place that I had been pining away for, until after I had moved back to the pines. Some of that is the grass is always greener syndrome and some of it is simply not paying attention. And then missing what I already missed while living the other day that got away.

Not this time.

Don’t get me wrong. There are many things here at The Pound that I most certainly will not miss and earnestly wish that I had never experienced in the first place. Take the drafty cold that is more like a measurable breeze that blows through the humble space in the Almost Always Winter, garage style heater/blower for source of warmth, or the lack of a kitchen. Okay. I will stop now. Now where was I?

Oh, yes. The things that I recognize that I will miss once I run move from my current humble abode. Like the moose mama and her twins. Twins seem to run in her family as she has had three sets since I have lived here. In fact, one of last year’s moose calves is munching down on the trees right outside my window even while I write about her. Looking healthy, looking good. I feel honored and blessed by your visit Miss Moose.

I will also miss the humble abode’s windows. Plentiful and big. I watched the deciduous trees bud leafy green in the spring and summer, and then blaze gold and orange in the fall. I spied beautiful firework displays lighting up the sky through these windows. I watched countless snowflakes fall on the trees and ground. I gazed, glanced, and stared through these window panes a good number of hours.

Appreciation. Sooner than later.

Rise up. Mandatory.

Rejoice. Optional.

Carrot of enticement ~ thick steaming hot dark roast coffee poured into 1-1/2″ of warm unsweetened soy milk in favorite coffee cup.

And the heavens opened and sang. and sang. and sang.

The day is quickly approaching when I will be walking out the door of my current humble abode for the last time. Right before I pull the door closed, before I hear the click of the hardware, I will not be saying my usual take good care of you, be safe, I’ll be back soon. Instead, I will be saying good-bye, take care, hope your new person is good to you.

Before I get to that door closing day, I have decisions to make. A goodly number of them to be in-exact. Decisions of what makes the cut of going with me in a box marked with a dark green circled “J” and what goes into a not going with me pile. Because I do not have the majority of My Stuff here at The Pound, formerly known as the Compound, this decision-making process shouldn’t take too much time. Right?

Wrong. It seems that I can make almost any task, big. Long. Wrenching. Boring. Long. and Big. Oh, I already said the last two? I listed them twice. Big and Long. Sorry, my bad.

What’s really bad, and not in the new vernacular meaning good, is the decision making part. What? Yeah, I suppose you’re right. That would be the whole process. Dang it.

Well, I know for sure that my beanie baby, Luke the Black Lab, is sticking with me. And the little foam black and white cow, Bossie. She helped me study for my EPPP, psychologist licensing exam. I squeezed her little cow body a lot while reading and reading. I passed the exam. Bossie is my buddy. A little worse for wear and squeezing but my little bovine buddy, for sure.

And then there are the seashells. Box with dark green circled “J”. Beach rocks? A big no-brainer there. Well they have to stick with their seashell counterparts, right?

Cuts will be made. Boxes with dark green circled “J’s” will go through the door, onto the next abode. The process will happen. We are in the thick of things now. Moving. soon.

Bastards.

My current favorita word, descriptor and identifier. Bastard.

There is the Vertigo, or V for short. Most certainly a bastard. There is the cold water only, meaning no hot or even warm water for the morning shower. Most certainly a bastard. There are the entities and/or people out there who make the bad stuff happen in the world. Most certainly bastards.

Do you sense where I am going with this? If you guessed, not far, you would be correct. Because saying bastard or bastards has only gotten me so far. Meaning, not far.

Nonetheless, texting the word bastard makes me smile and maybe even giggle, just a little. You might too if you knew me a little better. You see, I am not the sort that you would image blurting out bastard. And texting is tantamount to blurting, right? Now that I think about it, I think I have been texting my new favorita word more than I have been saying it out loud. Oh well. Either way, makes me smile and giggle, just a little. Every time. Probably because it’s a new thing. Were I to keep this up, it might just become irritating and grim and not so funny anymore. Probably.

Okay you humorless basta#*#. Oops.

Oh, the brown moose that is grazing on the little trees outside? He. He is not a bastard. Most definitely not. No bastard is he.

At least it’s sunny here, she said with forced cheer.

Oh, was the reply. Followed by, it’s overcast here but bright.

Third-party thoughts, I can see that much from my north facing window. No turn of head or casting of eyes required.

And so today’s sky here is ~ overcast with bright lighting to showcase the grey domed ceiling. Over there ~ sunny. My life doesn’t hang out over there. Not today. Nope. I am here.

F = familia

+

F = friends

Today I needed both. Today the “F’s” were here for me. Full on press.

Yup. Indeedy, they were.

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