somebody loan me a dime

So, here I am in an attic and this time next week – if the creek don’t rise – in a basement. Life falling out in front of me. I’m leaving because I’m leaving. Wild adventures arriving. Connie and Weymouth knew this stuff before me. Doug would laugh.

I’m typing this only an hour after yesterday’s post – my love letter to an old friend – on my laptop because my desktop, the only device I’m comfortable with, continued its journey toward failure after adding Windows 11 a few months back by coming up with some pretty evil reality virus-thing yesterday. Suddenly there’s no access to my blog, my credit union, and most of my saved pages. Most of the most important. Jorge has offered to magically appear inside my computer and poke around for problems, but even the emails won’t open. Annie Hall would say, “Ladeeda.” I’m kind of there too, add a smidge of puff the magic dragon.

This promises to be a wild and physically demanding week, and now my primary tool of navigating through my day-to-day world is ready for last rights. Fortunately I’m all in with the glimmer and wonder of strolling the path – my eyes focused on what’s working – all that abundance – and not on what isn’t.

So, this post, if it finds its way to your email, and any others in the foreseeable future, will be flying out from here, likely less wordy.

Me and Chicago – “Does anybody really know what time it is?”