Just a note

We’re moving next month, I’m teaching at a new school this fall, and I started a graduate program in composition studies today.

The move isn’t far, but it’s big. We’re moving a few miles west to Leesburg, a lot closer to my new high school. But we’re moving from our single-family house where we’ve lived for seventeen years to a one-bedroom condo, which we’ll rent for at least a year. We feel like moving is opening our arms to whatever comes next.


  1. Big moves in three different arenas, any one of which would exfoliate and open pores to experience. Brave, and exciting.

    Exactly one year after my own move, I admittedly I still lack a mental image of where the art now hangs. But does the exact location matter, anymore? We are the perfect age to embrace quantum indeterminacy.

    Alas, we are harder pressed to drive safely, with minds full of new routines and to-do lists. Take care, and report when you’ve beaten a few boxes into dented submission.

  2. Thanks, Julie. Speaking of where the art hangs, we’ve been in this place for seventeen years, and I still look for bowls in the cup cabinet. It’s not as if the bowls were ever anywhere else but in the bowl cabinet. I keep thinking that if we had decided to stay for just another year, I’d have been trained just in time to leave. I’d put that bowl in my lap behind the U-Haul’s wheel.

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