It ain’t like I can sit back in the porch swing sippin’ mint juleps just yet.
Though I’d sure like to.
But I can safely eyeball the mint leaves for pickin’.
Last night around 11, when I stretched out after another intense productive day, I very nearly came in to blog: I’ve accomplished my goal.
That goal was to have everything pretty well boxed up by Wednesday, four days ahead of departure.
It was a push. Not at all unlike the hard labor of delivery.
When was it last week that Baby Freedom’s head was crowning? Now baby’s head is out. Baby Freedom’s a bit bigger than the doctors had anticipated for my little body. But oooohhhh ohhhh ohhhh is s/he full of life!
Baby’s well on her way yet there’s no rest for the weary and working just yet.
The things needing to be done today and tomorrow, however, are littler, but no less vital and important, than those of late. The heave of delivery is past. Now’s the slide out for limbs, fingers and toes.
Not one to easily accept compliments and positive recognition, for what’s been accomplished and achieved in days recent, I deserve a pat on the back. An embrace. And a mint julep. 🙂
All along my aspiration’s been to have EVERYTHING COMPLETED by midday Saturday. No last-minute harried rush to dismantle, pack and clean for me! That’d be bad. That’d be wrong.
Everything done by midday Saturday means being fully present and relaxed and unfettered during a final meal with friends in the evening.
Sunday, day before departure, is for boxes neatly stacked in a clean and otherwise empty apartment, waiting.
Sunday’s for rest and ease. No Internet. No TV entertainment. Nothing but me and boxes for the Subaru.
Sunday’s for wine and roses — if any remain in the neighboring yard — and Paul, neighbor and Moose’s official owner.
Moose, my black friend, best friend and frequently only friend and companion through my darkest journey.
Moose, who saved my life, many times.
Moose, who with intelligence, curiosity, feline wit and swagger both weaseled and charmed his way into my life and heart.
Leaving him … saying goodbye for the final time … I don’t even wanna think about it!
Of course I do. It’s only right to be upfront and to honor the relationship between animal and human … to lavish spoken and unspoken love and care and light upon an animal who is leaving you or whom you are leaving.
The only tears to be shed are those for leaving Moose for good.
Letting go of an animal …
Moosie man, I love you so!