Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

The smaller apartment works perfectly for me. Each moment I'm here, working or reading or watching something on Netflix, is a moment I feel content. A few years ago I would have never considered myself an apartment kind of person, but for now, it suits me and my needs. My desire to go small, to reduce the amount of stuff in my life, to focus more on experiences rather than having things -- these are all happening.  The simplicity of it all -- less space to have to clean, each piece of furniture serving a purpose instead of just sitting gathering dust and taking up an area -- makes me wonder why anyone would want big. At what point did big become a thing? I know it's always been a thing with the mansions and castles of the rich through the years, but seriously. Big seems overwhelming. Big seems unnecessary. Big seems cold. Give me manageable. Give me purpose. Give me warmth. My carfree life so far is working out. I've not really had any need to go anywhere the days

Back in 2012, after returning home from two months on the bike, I began thinking about living a car-free life. After all, I'd just spend 60 days without a car. I'd ridden a bike up mountains. I'd ridden a bike during downpours. I'd ridden a bike for hours under a sun pulling every ounce of moisture out of my body. Surely I could continue riding my bike for wherever I wanted to go once I settled back into life as usual, right? Nope. In fact, in July 2015, I bought myself my first ever new car. Well, it was used at a year old, but to me it was basically a new car. It only had 14,000 miles on it. The interior and exterior were pristine. It was mine and mine alone. No one else would be driving it. The first year I put around 5000 miles on the car. The second year I put another 5000 miles on it. Last year to now, since I began letting Funny Delightful Son drive it to work and wherever else he wanted to go, another 9000 miles have been put on the car. Even at the

I went to bed last night with the intention of getting up early for a ride with a friend. I'm not a morning person any longer, haven't been for several years now. When the kids were younger, I had to be a morning person to make sure they got up, ate breakfast, then set off to school on time. I, too, would go through the routine of readying myself for work and arriving to teach at 8 am. Now, I find getting out of bed before 7 quite difficult. This morning, though, I was up at 4:50, out the door and on the bike by 5:25. My friend and I rode 31 miles. The first 10 miles in fog. The last 21 miles in mist. We ended at a coffeehouse, where I indulged in tiger chai and an orange-cranberry scone. With the first revolution of the crank, my being sighed. I hadn't realized how much I missed being on the bike until the front tire bumped off the driveway onto the street, and I began the short climb up to the main road that would take me to meet my friend. A physical response -- li

Angel Baby and I are tired. Exhausted is probably the better word. Between the two of us, we moved a desk that weighs as much as a two-ton truck (really, I know it does) and a china cabinet that's not much less than the two-ton truck. We did the bulk of the move on Tuesday, and every day since has been little stuff followed by cleaning. Today we have one more trip to make -- the unwanted things going to the ReStore and/or Goodwill. We also have the final cleaning. Then done! I've felt the ups and downs all week. Funny Delightful Son no longer comes through the door each afternoon, gives me a salute and says, "Greetings, Commander." My typical response has been, "At ease, Squaddie." I won't get the twenty-minute run-down of his day anymore, and I won't get the jokes and funny comments during dinner. And now that Lovely Beautiful Daughter is in her new place, I won't get my daily fix of hearing about her relationships with the residents where s

Five months into 2018. Please, Time, slow down! During this coming week, the move will happen. My landlord built a fence around the deck of the front unit, the unit Angel Baby and I will be moving into. It's a much smaller deck than the one we currently have, but the fence he put up will allow Ado to be out in that little area, which also offers some grassy space, without me worrying he'll get out. It's right off the kitchen, too, mostly private since the next-door neighbors never seem to venture outside. This past year, I think I've seen the neighbors five or six times. I don't know how people can stay inside all the time. I begin to get stir crazy, especially when it's warm and sunny, if I can't get out for several hours at a time. I found myself wandering around today, wanting to get started with the move but not quite knowing where to start. I feel like I'm in a holding pattern, waiting on others to do things before I can do what I need to. The l