I've been doing my best to cope with the reality of the moving process. I know that one would think this would be old-hat for someone who has actually been living in Japan for four months, but in reality the sight of everything boxed and bagged has been amazingly tumultuous. Perhaps it's the reality that there is no "home" to come back to anymore; all these years of traveling have always brought me back to Lilah and the elevated view of the Port Washington Narrows. And now tomorrow will bring my last official day as a home owner and my first official day as a landlord.
There is also the entire introspective process that has accompanied the sorting and sifting of a lifetime of junk carefully accumulated and stored until now. One might call it an archaeological process that has involved the unboxing of early primitive attempts at being me. There's stacks and stacks of Army photos, the facinating timelapsed photography of "
the growing of the hair", the random writings of a would be poet, the primitive facial jewelry, the tight jeans, the loose jeans, the ripped jeans, the designer jeans... a veritable time-line in denim if you will.
There were boxes of books, and bills, and magazines, and college homework. Whatever possessed me to hold onto these things has been lost over the years between then and now. But the affect has been realized in the stark reality of leaving.
The Pups have handled the process fairly well. Calla and Chase have been poked, prodded, and cut. They've had blood drawn and important bits removed. And through it all, they've been absolutely the best. Here in the hotel room Calla is munching on some kibbles from her portable hiking food bowls while Chase is reveling in the enjoyment of a very rare instance of lying on a bed (hey, it's a hotel!). We've reconnoitered the champagne bucket to serve as their water bowl and their new international flight approved kennels are waiting for me to tuck the puppies in for the night. So goodnight all.
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