Boxed In

I just love packing. I love bringing order to everything.

I bought a whack of unassembled cardboard boxes. I put each one together, reinforce it with tape, fill it, label it with its contents and mark what room I want it to end up in on Gabriola. I’m doing this all day today and tomorrow before the mover’s arrive on Wednesday. They’re coming to give me an estimate.

On Wednesday the things I ordered online start arriving and that’s really going to fill up my space. I’m kind of camping in a forest of boxes.

This morning I sent an email to a guy near Nanaimo hoping to get two cords of wood delivered to the cabin. Yum!

The single downside to this move is that I’ve alienated my only friend with whom I’m intimate. We’ve been close for ten years I’ve hurt him. It’s something can recall doing only once before; both of us are unhappy — me more than him, I think. He’s got other friends.

This morning I came into my office high on the smell of the fresh air. I savored the sweet smell while my ears took in the cacophony of urban howl and I considered how much sweeter mornings might be on the island when I open the doors to my deck.

My new favourite words: Gabriola, island, deck, lawn, studio, hot tub, bar-b-q, silence, and privacy.