Yesterday, two – yes, two, moving vans arrived at my home and delivered all my stuff. I honestly prefer to call it crap at this point. Two vans full of things I don’t really need because I have been living in this house with empty rooms and no where really comfortable to sit, for two months. Two whole months and I am fine. Fine without the weight of all these belongings – all these things – things to make my life easier, more entertaining, more comfortable. I have a bread maker, a juicer, an ice cream freezer, an electric skillet and two sets of cookware and three coffee-makers…not even counting the one still in London. I own three sets of china as well as everyday dishes and let’s not even count flatware. There are now four sofas in this house, four desks, and five book cases. You get the picture.
I just moved all my posts from Indie-Albany to this blog and re-read, “Its the people, not the things.” I must concur with me.
The funny thing is, a whole lot of my things are about the people. We have tea cups from every grandmother; a stamp collection from my father-in-law; the bread machine was actually a gift from my dad so I might not ever part with it; there’s china from both a grandmother and my parents – it simply goes on and on. Half the exhaustion I feel is from visiting with all the ghosts, all the people I love and remember and no longer have in my daily life: only the things they left behind. I miss them and touching the mementos forces me to remember…
Musings 
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