"The world belongs to me because I am poor." (Kerouac's overly-romantic view on poverty, but not a bad quote to have stuck in your head in consumeristic-mad America.)
Eleanor & I biked to the park about an hour and a half ago - huckleberries, whee! - and on the way home, passed a compact, upscale pile of junk outside one of the old farmhouses here on Jefferson Street. We went home and got Janelle & the Jeep, then returned. We ended up carrying away a folding card table from the year 1865 and a nice armoire. Janelle: "I can paint or re-stain that!" And the sun was starting to set so we hot footed it home and got Ella in the tub.
And so: This Friday, we're renting a U-Haul and moving into our new home, which is approx. 100 paces away from our current residence. To say "we can't wait" would be to downplay both the pain in the ass that is moving as well as our excitement about getting out of this weird duplex, which we've shared for a year now with a neighbor whose social skills are in a bad, bad way.
Our living room and kitchen are now filled with boxes, boxes, boxes. And it's total chaos! There's a lot of good things about chaos. One of them is that it usually presents an opportunity for artistic expression. In this case, the boxes make for excellent mini-graffiti tags and stoopid drawings (see above photo). It's actually kind of an ideal environment for me, in many ways.
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