Packing, now, all the shit that won't be coming with me. Despite only being here a year, maybe 2, there's a lot of shit.
Treasures, new candlesticks, old candlesticks, chambersticks, inkwells in colors of pale violet to mercury blue, glass pens, ancient keys, dinosaur bones, knick-knacks, breakables, delicate curiosities, to return to the locker. Furniture, to be given away or placed in the alley (where it disappears suspiciously quick). Separate the shit I'm taking from the shit I'm leaving. This is not so hard, I'm still taking far more than I should, I need, better to be prepared, but whatever I leave will be what I miss most.
A shame, this packing of the treasures that have been acquired but barely enjoyed or appreciated, a good many of them are given away to appreciative audiences, I console myself, do this right in a year or two you can be unpacked. Properly unpacked. Looking at real estate - Kaslo, 10 acres, walking distance, under 100K. I could do this, better in the spring, of course, time to build my homestead over the summer, but this - 100K, this is not impossible...
I think I'm top of it, that I've thought of everything, but thoughts percolate to the surface, the need to fix the jeep, to clean, to make it to the consignment shop, slight commitments to art projects, paintings, other, a hundred tiny things that distract me...
Tomorrow, everything to the locker but the bed and what's coming with me. The bed, it goes on Sunday. I'm living the Zen, but at the moment, surrounded by a hundred semi-packed boxes of treasures and trifles I'm living the nightmare. Soon...