Moving right along....

As my facebook friends already know, a lot has happened in the less than a week since my last post. Although I've kinda sorta been looking for a new place off and on for the last few *years*, it wasn't until right after my little rant that the perfect place came up. The location alone (right on the walking/bike trail, outside of town where it turns wooded and quiet) got me so excited I had trouble sleeping that night. I'd sent off an e-mail straight off asking if I could come by, but the next day I decided on the direct approach, and drove on over. It's a wonderful little house, all clean and bright and cheerful, with nice neighbors and room for thedog--and, as I said, *right* next to the trail, so I can meander and think to my heart's content. And ride my bike to work again (work is also right on the trail), once it isn't so dark in the mornings. I love that.

I've already signed an agreement and figured out move dates. And I've already broken the news to my current landlord, so it's all official. I'm a little dizzied by how fast this has happened after so much searching and discouragement. It's like a story. Almost doesn't seem real. I'm liable to feel pretty unsettled right up until I close the door of the current place for the last time and drive off into the sunset.

I feel like I was a little too harsh on it (and my current landlord) in my last post. Yes, it has a plethora of issues, some of them serious. But it hasn't been such a bad deal, all around. And as for my landlord...well, the poor guy never *asked* to be a landlord. He inherited me and this place and all its issues, and I think is embarrassed by the language barrier, among other things. Trying to make repairs or really analyze the place while I'm there is very awkward for him, so he's just avoided it, for the most part. It may actually be a relief that I'm going so he can finally really deal with it, I dunno. He hasn't actually spoken to me since I brought over the letter and made sure it was understood, so I'm a little nervous I won't get away without *some* sort of fuss, but..so far so good.

Now comes the packing and moving part! I have until the end of the month, which is approaching at alarming speed. One of the big concerns is that the new little house is, in fact, little. The current mobile is a double-wide, and actually pretty spacious. The new place is a tiny two bedroom bungalow with no real storage space to speak of, other than an outdoor shed. Much paring down will need to occur. In a lot of ways, this will be very good for me--force me to decide on what matters and clean up my packrat tendencies. However, sadly this will likely mean that many of the typers will be on the block, possibly including Bernard. Ulp. I'm going to stall on that decision for a few days, but if the Pacific Northwestern typospherians see a sudden glut of well-worn typers appear on Craigslist, it's my fault. I'm thinking I should really pare down to just one standard and maybe two or three portables, probably the nicer SM-9, the Galaxie and the rather chintzy Olivetti-Lettera-35l-inabag I picked up on a whim a month or so ago, just 'cause it's tiny and reminds me (for reasons I reserve for a future typecast) of my childhood teddy bear.

Other revelations of packing: good gracious I have a lot of paper! It was spread throughout the house, but I packed up most of my notebooks last night, and the result makes me feel both gloating and sheepish. Most of 'em are cheap composition notebooks, plus a few Rhodia pads and some of the lovely HP paper I use for Circa stuff and the scrap paper I use for typed drafts and the box of what's left of the onion skin paper I got from Duffy Moon. Two whole milk-crates full of unused paper, not counting the loose stuff. Makes me want to sit down in the middle of the floor and start scribbling.

And packing books tempts me to stop what I'm doing and read "just a few lines".

Which is why it's a good thing I'm starting ahead of time....

I am easily distracted.

But man, is this exciting or what??