my days are numbered

The pudding dream.


We have all had it. Run as fast as you might, you make no headway because you are running through pudding. I like to think it is banana cream.

That is what I felt like Thursday. Partly my own doing.


I started the day by filling the truck with the clothes I sorted on Wednesday. The largest portion were suits I have accumulated over the last thirty years. The Salvation Army has a job interview clothes closet. And they desperately needed men's clothes. I was surprised to discover that my suits alone filled up the space I intended to use to take my possessions to Mexico. Not a very realistic plan.


I then rushed over to a memorial service for one of our congregation members. I have known Elizabeth for about 11 years. I would have cancelled any other appointments to be there for the service.


And I was then back in the truck to run errands for a message board member who needed a mechanical part. I ended up going to four different shops before I found what he needed. I hope it works for him.


When I returned to the house, I moved several pieces of computer equipmenmt into storage, sorted books, and washed some clothes that will be headed south with me. (I also had a small fright. I could not find the title to my truck. After looking around for almost an hour, I found it in a stack of papers that were on their way to the shredding bin.)


I finished that up just in time to head over to my neighbor's house for a farewell party. My neighborhood is a very special place. I do not know many neighborhoods where all of the residents know one another as well as we do -- and who actually care for one another as we do. For them to put together this gathering was special. And I will always remember them for the special people they are.


And then it was off to bed.


My mother and I are leaving for Bend first thing on Friday morning. It will give me an opportunity to catch up on her trips to Hawaii and Tennessee. We will then have two days with my brother's family before I return to Salem for Easter Sunday.


When I return, I should have a carrier on top of the truck. Then the true packing will begin.