Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Passing Through Lousiana

The refineries of Louisiana
Deep breath. Let's start over. I wrote the beginnings a post after catching up a bit on the Internet, and the environmental news was so grim that it spilled over and fouled my post. So now I breathe, I delete, and I start over.

I am reaching right now, trying very hard to come up with good and happy things like unicorns farting rainbows. It was a tougher than usual drive east today, and I am now ensconced in my room at the La Quinta in Walker Louisiana. Someone from the hotel called me this morning to tell me they are starting construction on the hotel now and there are no rooms on the first floor, the elevator isn't working, and they can't serve breakfast. The news came on top of several other difficulties in my morning, and I'm afraid I was less than patient and understanding with the clerk from the hotel. I felt very bad when I got in tonight and saw that they are doing construction because of flooding, and I realized they must have been damaged during the horrible floods last year. Just a little reminder to always give the benefit of the doubt and assume that there's a good reason for someone's actions or some hardship in their lives that you don't have and so to cut them slack.

For a unicorn farting a rainbow, the studio went under contract today and is set to close next Friday. That is both a terrifying and an exhilarating development. I think I have everything set-up to pull it off--even though I will not have the help of any studio elves as Dee is getting ready for her show in Philly in three weeks, and Becky works for an accountant and this is the busy (tax) season. My current plan is to have a last sale day on Sunday--email to go out when I finish this post--and then three days of packing and one day of loading The Last UHaul. Close on the property Friday, Dave coming in Friday night, and then he will drive the U-Haul back to Austin Saturday while I drive the minivan. That's all the easy part. The had part, the part that is twisting my brain is, where am I going to put all the stuff I'm bringing back?!? The studio in Austin is FULL. But if the weather is nice, I guess I can pull everything out of it and pile it on the driveway, and then put it all back in the way it should go instead of higgledy piggledy (which it is now) and find some room that way. And I can set-up the woodworking equipment in a woodshop in the room under the master bedroom.

It's hard to believe that the last ties that bind us to Atlanta (which aren't people) are set to be severed in just over a week. I still have to sell my Mom's car. Anyone know anyone who would like a 4-door 1999 Honda Accord with 57,000 miles--yes, only 57,000, no typo--for $2500? I also need to rehome the sporadically-laying chickens--they're sweet girls, but they are getting old and we are not moving them to the sun and coyote-drenched landscape that is Austin. Anyone know anyone who would like four sweet chickens?

Now I'd better get a sale flyer out and then get to sleep, Destin and spinning tomorrow!

1 comment:

Bill said...

I'm afraid that we're too far away to be a chicken rescue site for you. It wouldn't be fair to the old girls to retire them to the street...