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I know, I know--this was from the last post. But it's still pretty representative. 

Boy howdy, things are swirling around here in Wallingford in a maelstrom of dog beds, toiletries, laundry, hake, dentists, friends, last meals, repairs, tiles, laughter, trash, boxes, valuables, fruit in all stages of ripeness (and beyond), keepsakes, tears, fixtures, appliances, and, although it's becoming cliche it's still true: a billion other details. The one thing notably not swirling around is our mail. Before heading up to Orcas with our core desirables a couple weeks ago, I officially forwarded our mail to our new post office in Eastsound (PO BOX 3, 98245, if you're wanting to send us postcards), and very little of it arrived before the post office closed for the weekend on Friday--and I had to place a mail hold for the next three weeks. We may end up losing several weeks of mail, all told. I find myself feeling a surprising benignancy to the idea.

It's been strange to notice habits over the last two days here in Seattle that don't serve us anymore. In addition to having to stop myself from checking the porch for mail (actually, I still check at least once a day), I keep stepping out of the kitchen to play something on the piano, and being reminded, yet again, that it's on Orcas. I hadn't realized how much I really was playing it. We're sleeping on the pull-out couch in the basement because our mattresses and a Hollywood frame are on Orcas, but our usual bedframe and our dresser and bedside tables are upstairs . . . and some of our clothes are still in the dresser, but many more of them--including all my shirts--had been taken to Orcas and were dirty yesterday when I needed to get dressed and take Spackle to the vet. Ian, who has brought his dental care paraphernalia to the downstairs bathroom, just tried to open the framed mirror hanging on the wall to put his toothbrush away. It's a bounded chaos, at least, as far as chaos goes. We do find ourselves able to eat, sleep, and inch forward through the storm, breathlessly knitting loose threads into our lifeline.

For better or for worse, though, it'll all mostly be over in just a few short weeks. The movers will lade, the home coolers will celebrate, the cleaners and repairers will tidy and fix, the realtor will list, the buyer will buy, and just like that, our homes will be reduced to two; and the counties, islands, and even communities will be reduced to a blessed, quiet, slow-paced, salt-aired, nature-filled one.


Please enjoy the latest photos here! (note: I did some captions on these new ones!)