Packing Up And Heading Out

Our house is emptying out, and some rooms are actually echoing. We've packed our bags for travel, we've packed up a few boxes and bins of valuables to store with family, and we've gotten rid of a lot of driftwood. We're renting out the house furnished, so at least we don't have to rid ourselves of the basic furnishings and household goods.

I think this is about the cleanest break we've made yet. When I moved out to Virginia over twenty years ago, my worldly goods consisted of my bed and four boxes of possessions. When I moved away from Virginia five year later, Michael had to bring his small truck to haul away my stuff (this was after multiple rounds of wedding showers, of course).

Speaking of wedding presents, I've packed up a few of those over these past weeks, as precious memories are a few things we do not want our tenants getting their grubby hands on, no matter how much we might respect them. I sent a hat-box over to my brother's house, the provenance of which remains yet unknown--it came without a card attached, so who gave it to me remains a mystery to this day, but I've treasured it all these years and I actually keep hats and gloves in it!

But as I was saying, this is the lowest ebb by far, even more draconian a cut than when we moved back to Virginia five years ago. Then we made the decision to move in just over a week, and sold off most of our furniture in a blaze of logistical flourishes. But we brought the entire contents of our pantry and freezer with us. This time we've actually been eating down our stores, and I've been avoiding grocery shopping for some time, and the pantry is looking bare.

George said: 'You know we are on the wrong track altogether. We must not think of the things we could do with, but only of the things that we can't do without.'

George comes out really quite sensible at times. You'd be surprised. I call that downright wisdom, not merely as regards the present case, but with reference to our trip up the river of life generally. How many people, on that voyage, load up the boat till it is ever in danger of swamping with a store of foolish things which they think essential to the pleasure and comfort of the trip, but which are really only useless lumber....

It is lumber, man--all lumber! Throw it overboard. It makes the boat so heavy to pull, you nearly faint at the oars.....Throw the lumber over, man! Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need. ~Three Men In A Boat

It's bittersweet, in a way. But we'll be back, and we have friends waiting for us at the other end.