Sunday Evening News

Woah…. whadda week.
In a nutshell - 7 exhausting days of people
and their tragedies – culminating in a mass
effort to move our friend from the country
to the city.
As is usually the case, moving day was fraught
with upset and stress, but this day was made all the
more strained by the eerie presence of the ex-husband,
(who owns the house and was none-too-patiently waiting
to move back in). He showed up uninvited at 7 a.m.,
walked over to a huge cedar tree near the edge of the yard –
and stood there until 11:45. His ex went out and pleaded
with him not to do that, but he said “You can’t stop me.”
and that was that.
All of us movers had been friends of his at one point
(before he went off the deep end and became
threatening and kind of crazy), so it was fairly wretched
watching him watch us carting bits of his old life away.
There was a lot of laughter and beer drinking and rushing
around throughout the day, but there was also always him,
off to the side, alone beneath a tree in the rain.
I know I could have found a metaphor somewhere in all of that –
but for once I was happy just to go home and crawl into
my own bed, where I slept like the dead for 12 fabulous hours.
Which I think I will head off now and try to do again.

Peace like a river to all you fine blogooligans -
until we meet again.


bs