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Sir Wooliam in plastic

We glance around to see what time it is, and the clocks are gone. We go out to sit on the balcony, and the chairs are gone. We look for clothes in the drawers, and the clothes are gone. We sit down to watch Jeopardy, and the television is Just. Not. There.

We go to pet our plush guard golden lab (from a children’s toystore), and he is gone to a friend’s home for a year. Our large plush sheep, Sir Wooliam (also stuffed – see picture above), is in a large plastic bag with just his nose sticking out.

photo of missing TV

Where the TV should be

Things are not the same in our home. Yesterday Tom’s daughter Sybil and her crafty pirate crew of grandkids came in and swept away a third of our stuff, while we just kept packing. But two days from moving out, we’re not ready just yet.

We clean a corner, and ancient artifacts appear. We don’t have a clock, but we have forgotten keychains, flashlights, and unfinished projects. We don’t have a television, but we have paper clips and old staplers and half used journals, and a surprising collection of cassette tapes that nobody has played in years. We should probably just use a shovel and a dumpster, but the urge to examine them all is hard to resist.

This is the beginning of the adventure. Life is a little edgy, a little uncomfortable, a bit pressured and strange, but that’s what we’re asking for, isn’t it? To slide off the grid a bit and see how it feels.

And how does it feel? Scary – and so, so exhilarating.

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