|Condiment of unknown origin and age|
11:40 PM - Standing at the kitchen counter, swiping reheated dumplings through unknown sauce from an ancient bag in the crisper; eating with my fingers: ME!
|Emptying hooks, walls and cupboards - my home, becoming a house|
Outside, my special rocks, stepping stones, five hellebores and ten plants of my choosing have been removed from the garden; they will be orphans until I once again have a place of my own. Inside, boxes are being filled with happy, hopeful, useful things that helped make this house a home.
|Gifts on my doorstep|
I've been told I'm rigid, resistant to change, but this is not the case - just look at me eating without a fork! I am simply slow to change. But with each box packed my home gradually becomes just a house - and that is making it... slowly... easier to leave.
Changes are coming - big and small - and I'm starting to feel excitement: it's up to me now, whatever I want to do - even drink my milk straight from the carton!
I still don't know where I'm going, but I've got seven more weeks to get there, and though I'm on my own, I don't have to do it alone. With the help of good people sending me best wishes, rental listings and boxes, it will all get sorted out.
Dumplings finished, then pasta, an orange, some trail mix and milk (from a cup); packing boxes has left me famished. For the first time in ten months I am hungry - a very good sign.
|Another good sign - Photo: Tammy Delaney|