Hello Readers and Welcome New Friends,
My word for the week is “moving”: a. capable of movement. b. relating to a change of residence. I am relating to the second definition and at present almost incapable of the first one.
I am moving from a super-sized house to a fun-sized house; from eleven acres to a pocket-handkerchief sized front and back yard; from a small hotel to a cottage just large enough for me and my Shih Tzu. Whew!
I’ve lived in The Big House for thirteen years. It has so much storage space that things rarely were tossed out. Instead, they were tossed ‘into’: into a cupboard, into a closet or into a spare room, their fate to ‘be decided’ someday. Someday is here. What a much of stuff. Needless to say, my fun sized house will not be able to accommodate all the stuff I’ve tossed ‘into’, not and still have room for me and the dog.
So I am ruthlessly tossing out, donating to thrift stores, giving away to unsuspecting friends, and packing what’s left. And what’s left is still too much ‘stuff!’
All of which leaves me no time for my writing and I am having severe withdrawal symptoms. My characters are frozen in mid-paragraph, unable to meet the challenges I’ve put them in, because I can’t meet the challenges that I’ve put me in.
I’d like to believe that I’m almost done tossing out but I’m pretty sure that’s wishful thinking. I’d like to believe that I’m maybe more than half-way through packing but I’m thinking that’s wishful thinking, too.
So I say to my characters, Mae, Mira, and Carla, “Hang in there, gals. This can’t last forever.” Somebody please reassure me that this can’t last forever.
Until Next Time Friends!
*Ellie Pulikonda, Author/Writer*