We've Only Just Begun

The U-Haul is packed. The mini-van is (mostly) packed. You could not fit a box of kleenex in the back of the U-Haul. I have *never* seen such a great loading job! Of course it weighs like sin. I don't even want to estimate how many thousands of pounds of glass we have in there--not to mention the last of the furniture and a big-assed ceramics kiln (because, hey, everyone needs an art school-sized ceramic kiln...). I'll do a bit more loading of the mini-van tomorrow--there is a smidge of space left in my van and the front seat of the U-Haul. Maybe. Becky, Dan, Linda, Brian, Fawn, Lori, Licha were happy to take things I couldn't, and I am happy that everything I left that I cared about has gone to people I love.The chickens have a new home with Mel, Kay, and Kyla--they want to keep them to remember us--and the Honda sold to Dan. All of the molds and the two big sheets of white Tekta that I left have been claimed by Brian and Linda. Lori took the portable sandblaster. There are still some white Elfa shelves and a couple of 6-ft white folding tables that need homes, but all in all the studio's pretty empty.

Tomorrow I'm going to take an easy day and maybe have breakfast with Keith, have a pedicure and lunch with Becky, meet Mel to get the chickens sorted in the afternoon, and then head out to Anya's for dinner and to spend the night. We close Friday and someone else gets to dream big dreams about the possibilities of that wonderful, quirky little 1920's Craftsman bungalow. I'm glad it's not being torn down. Dave comes in early afternoon now, and Saturday we drive. Sunday we rest. Monday we re-jigger the studio, and Tuesday we unload the U-Haul and return it. Once that is done, our last physical tie with Atlanta will be severed. 

Oh we'll still have emotional ties galore, but there will be no more property, no more pets, no more house and no more studio there. Much as I love Austin and our wonderful house, I definitely have to console myself leaving here with the knowledge that we have an apartment in Austin, and friends WILL visit. Glass friends will come and take glass classes at Helios with some of Paul Tarlow's incredible guest teachers. We'll have our own little spinning retreat in the hill country. Friends will come for food, and music, and weekends with us. We have been so fortunate to build the relationships we have here. I used to wish everyone I cared about would move with us--and I advocated strenuously with them for it. But now I'm glad that I have visits to look forward to, and I'm not afraid this will be the end. If I were up for a cheesy song ending this post tonight, it would be the Carpenters "We've Only Just Begun"... Heck, who am I kidding. I AM up for it!