Circus::

Thanks to our beautiful friends

   We picked up our truck.  Then we traded it in for another.  Mellow Yellow.  With help from a small army of friends, we packed the mother out.  No time for disappointment at what lies beyond reach for the next 10 days.  All that ramains is to throw a couple more whatnots in the back, get behind the wheel and go.  That will come after the cleaning, last goodbying, and hooking up the trailer.



   In the back of the moving van just as we had begun packing the apartment into it.  Everything out of our storage space and my studio was already in.   Our friend Ross is in the back with me and Marcus.  Ross says to me, "hmm, smells like P.B. Blaster in here".  I have a can of P.B. Blaster in here somewhere" I reply.  Then I realize.  I begin pulling boxes out of the stack, trying to remember where the box of lubricants and alike is packed.  Quickly I find the box, saturated with orange solvent.  I grab it and hand it off to Marcus to get out of the truck.  But not before dripping on the floor, another box or two, etc.  Luckily a rag in the box absorbed most of the contents of the can.  But yeah, smells like P.B. Blaster in there. 
 

Down To The Wire:::

   Today is the final packing day.  Our list of things to accomplish is too long for reality.  Add in breakfast and dinner plans with friends and the result is insanity producing.  All of this under the influence of the full moon.

   We'll be stopping by the bank, picking up more boxes, emptying our storage space into my studio, throwing the remaining bits of remnants of our lives into either a box or the trash.  Doesn't even really matter which at this point.  It's come to that.  No more plotting, organizing, sorting; that time has past.  It is time to fill the boxes and seal them up.