Have you ever seen the pictures of King Tut’s tomb as it looked the day that Howard Carter first broke through the wall, revealing those objects to the light of day for the first time in thousands of years? Well then, you may see a certain resemblance in these pictures. We too have our precious objects all piled up together. But, although you may not think that it looks as if anything has been done except for dumping, but believe you me (as my dad used to say), there’s been a ton of work done (mostly by Jim) to get this far. And now I’m realizing that I can get rid of a ton. (Might have been nice if I’d realized this before the move, but oh well.)
Right now we are living in the midst of chaos, with our possessions scattered hither and yon, whether downstairs or upstairs or out on the porch or driveway. And that doesn’t even include the main stuff in the pods, which will arrive this afternoon.
Sunday evening, May 21: Here I sit on the stairs of our soon-not-to-be-ours house, and I’m so tired that this is the only thing I can do. It’s too early to go to bed, I don’t have any books I want to read, and there’s no TV. And pretty much no internet, although once in awhile I can get a faint waft of Xfinity wifi. So I’m writing a post! Aren’t you flattered!
Whew! What a week! Posts on this blog have been pretty sparse, and I didn’t get my newsletter out on Monday. So I plan to write something today and tomorrow and send the newsletter out then. Events are flying past at the speed of light. I’ll have pics and posts about our move into the new space, and I have a great book to recommend this week that will be up tomorrow.
Wow, what a week. I realized yesterday that I hadn’t written any posts since sending out my newsletter on Monday. Although one finish line (the end of the BSF year) had passed, this was concert week, with performances last night and tonight. Thursday afternoon and basically all day Friday were consumed with making food for the reception last night; Tuesday and Thursday night were rehearsals, and then I rushed to get to the venue yesterday in time to set up my cupcake stands and put out my food.
I wrote last week about my disagreement with the concept of empathy. (Apparently Jonah Goldberg got a ton of hate mail on his column on the subject, including messages from people who didn’t read the article very carefully—or at all—and thought the book he was quoting was from a nasty conservative. Sigh.)
Recently I picked up a book at the library called 
I wrote yesterday about passing the milestone of my last BSF class for the year and that I now need to be sure I have a new goal to fill the time left empty by the completion of that stretch. A memory from grad school came to mind as I re-read the post. A fellow speech grad student had her masters speech recital, straining every nerve, as one does, to get the performance ready and then, well, perform it. She did a good job (although for the life of me I can’t remember what her material was) and then she had a real struggle with depression once it was over.