Moving day always coincides with the hottest day of the year. It also coincides with the day that I don’t have any clean laundry...and it actually should be called “moving week.” The reason being, life as we know it ceases to exist until that week is over, and all your crap is piled up in some other location, and you can’t remember where anything is.

 

         To me, moving is one of the most brutal times in life. I don’t know why. I would rather get fired, go to the dentist, and have my car break down, all in the same day, instead of move. In fact, I think that Arizona has drafted a bill that will force prisoners convicted of violent crimes to have to move for people in lieu of solitary confinement. The A.C.L.U. is working hard to combat this bill because it is seen as cruel and unusual punishment.

 

         Today, I finished my move. I was blessed with the gracious help of the beautiful and charming, Merrissa. If I had not been, I would still be sitting in a puddle of my own sweat, wondering how a t-shirt could smell so bad! I would be loading the car by the light of the now-empty carport, and hoping for a nutritious dinner by the closest fast-food establishment.

 

         After all the boxing, heaving, and unloading is done, what I realized is that moving is a very symbolic event in life. I can’t ever remember moving and not having it mean that my life was going to change in some significant way. A transition from one point to another, “moving” to the next step of this journey of my existence. There is truth to the saying that everything worth having needs to be earned, is true. No matter how much moving burns my eyes and makes me fret, I now see it as a necessary goal that was earned. I am very much looking forward to the next adventure...especially because “moving day is now over.

 

Cheers,

 

Benjamin S. Brechtel, Editor

Hawaii Wine Lover.

 

        

I’ve never looked this happy moving