Never Again

That’s what my daughter says about moving.  She says she never wants to move again.  Partly she means she’s tired of moving things and unpacking boxes.  Partly she means she loves the new place.

I told her just wait until you go to college, kid.  You’ll always be moving around, at least back and forth between home and college in the summers.

But it’s going well.  Not as fast as we’d like (does it ever?) but pretty smoothly all things considered.  I’m surprised, but probably shouldn’t be, by just how much we love the screened in porch.  We had a deck at our old place but almost never used it.  Always too hot or too cold or too buggy or something.  We’d considered screening it in but heck, why not just buy a new house that already has one?  And it’s perfect.  Trees and birds all around.  Ceiling fans.  My daughter’s hammock.  My beer fridge.  Niiiiice.  It’s the dog’s favorite spot too.  We’re going to get our handyman to put in a doggy door so she can live here and let herself out once the fence in the yard is repaired and school starts up again.

It’s where I am now.  I’ve got my laptop on my actual lap with the Jambox turning out an unending mix of online music and the puppy gnawing on a bone left behind by the previous owner’s dogs.  As soon as I finish this post I’m going to read out here until the little one gets up and needs some breakfast…

So, yeah.  Nice.



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