Dog days
It's the dog days of getting ready for this trip abroad.
The past three months have been nonstop sorting, packing, trashing, donating. I think I'm going to have nightmares of pack? Save? Donate? Trash? For years to come.
This morning, when I heard the trash truck, I leaped out of bed, ran outside barefoot and began apologizing to the trash truck men. And thanking them! Why? Well I'm sure I broke many New York laws about what I'm allowed to throw out and how much and when. But with a smile they took it all. Four hours later, my trash bin was fill again. Now I have to wait until Thursday.
My kids and husband left this morning so it's my job to pack up the rest.
At the same time, the renters have begun dropping off their stuff. Our renters seem wonderful and perfect. And they are paying for our home. But this part of me is freaking out every time I see them and their stuff. My home! It won't look like my home!
Today was the dreaded day of the kids saying bye to our dog. She definitely knows something is up. She jumped into the car and refused to get out. Smart as she is, it was the wrong car. "Follow the suitcases" I explained to her. The goodbye was most traumatic for my kids. Maya, despite all the bruises she causes, is their dog and that is a relationship only a someone who had a dog as a kid can understand. I promised that if maya died I was too my darndest to convince adam we were getting another one. I also promised I'd spoil her so she's sleeping in my room tonight, ate Adam's beef jerky and hotdogs and even topped off a jar of peanut butter. Yes, I feel guilty.
Tonight I took a break for tisha baav services, my last Jewish holiday in America for awhile. It is our saddest holiday, commemorating all the tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people. There were 12 of us sitting on the floor reading from the book of eicha or lamentations. it's the holiday where we remember that all stories don't have happy endings and it's a time to mourn. Yet there is debate about how much we should mourn when we have the modern state of Israel.
The past three months have been nonstop sorting, packing, trashing, donating. I think I'm going to have nightmares of pack? Save? Donate? Trash? For years to come.
This morning, when I heard the trash truck, I leaped out of bed, ran outside barefoot and began apologizing to the trash truck men. And thanking them! Why? Well I'm sure I broke many New York laws about what I'm allowed to throw out and how much and when. But with a smile they took it all. Four hours later, my trash bin was fill again. Now I have to wait until Thursday.
My kids and husband left this morning so it's my job to pack up the rest.
At the same time, the renters have begun dropping off their stuff. Our renters seem wonderful and perfect. And they are paying for our home. But this part of me is freaking out every time I see them and their stuff. My home! It won't look like my home!
Today was the dreaded day of the kids saying bye to our dog. She definitely knows something is up. She jumped into the car and refused to get out. Smart as she is, it was the wrong car. "Follow the suitcases" I explained to her. The goodbye was most traumatic for my kids. Maya, despite all the bruises she causes, is their dog and that is a relationship only a someone who had a dog as a kid can understand. I promised that if maya died I was too my darndest to convince adam we were getting another one. I also promised I'd spoil her so she's sleeping in my room tonight, ate Adam's beef jerky and hotdogs and even topped off a jar of peanut butter. Yes, I feel guilty.
Tonight I took a break for tisha baav services, my last Jewish holiday in America for awhile. It is our saddest holiday, commemorating all the tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people. There were 12 of us sitting on the floor reading from the book of eicha or lamentations. it's the holiday where we remember that all stories don't have happy endings and it's a time to mourn. Yet there is debate about how much we should mourn when we have the modern state of Israel.
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