You take fifty or a hundred showers in the new showers. You take fifty or a hundred dumps in the new toilets. You wake up a few hundred times in the new bedroom before it is what you expected to see when you opened your eyes. After a while, things are in their new places and you know how everything works. Only then do you feel at home in the new home. But it takes time.
The blog’s been quiet for a week or so because I was moving. Moving is a considerable dislocation for some people, and I’m one of them. That’s on top of the hassle of the move itself. Things are settling down okay, I’m happy about that. Another week or two and I’ll have my equilibrium back. Such as it is.
I should be remaining in this place for the foreseeable future, which at my age is also called, “the duration.” So maybe no more moving. That would be good. I like it where I am. I’ve got some interesting neighbors. Things are handy, things like my job, the malls, a couple of decent hospitals and a few good friends. It sure isn’t the future that I would have expected for myself. It’s not even a future that I would have chosen for myself, not especially. It’s a future, though, and anyone who has one of those is lucky.
Thanks, everybody, for your patience.