If you ever really want to curse someone, “May you have to move” would be a good one.
I’m moving from my little wild paradise, where I get to see things like this …
gray foxes
red foxes
whitetail deer
wild turkeys
raccoons
and even this and this and this …
all photographed right in my own back yard, not to mention this and this just a short stroll away …
… to a place in the city.
It’s a nice place, in the historic section of a historic eastern city (for instance, the bronze plaque on the front of my building dates the structure from 1824), plus there’s a statue of Larry the Christian Indian a half-block away (more about him later, I think) and a boatload of historic events and attractions, and I’m happy to be here.
But moving!
Moving everything you own, using a small pickup, with not much help, and to the third floor, up a narrow staircase!
Oh, please, never again!
_______________
BTW, that’s also why blog output has been limited lately. I’ll be back on the job soon, I promise.
— Meanwhile, do YOU have a recent moving story?