All Over But the Packing

Jessie and Gallifrey survey our lush,
verdant yard.

The studio is now closed, all sales from it over. It was a bittersweet day. The bitter started when I drove past our old house this morning to find that the new owners took down the arbor in front that had been covered with jasmine, dug up the jasmine, cut down the fragrant tea olives, the camellias, the Harry Lauder Walking Stick (contorted hazelwood tree), the dogwood, the witch hazel, the service berry, and the yellow dogwood, as well as razed any plant taller than grass to the ground including ferns, quince, and azaleas. It's not like the yard was a mess. I had it radically pruned and neatened before we moved. But there is nothing left there from us now. The crepe myrtles and the maple were planted by the builder, and they're all that remain. I'm glad I couldn't see the backyard and the pond.

It was also sad to to look around the studio with its careless piles of leavings and stuff bound for the truck, and to remember all the hopes and dreams I had for it when we bought it. I never realized many of them, and of the ones I did, most turned to ash for one reason or another.

Clockwise left to right: Half-Moon, Cookies & Cream,
Willow, Sadie, Tuxedo, Night Shadows, Sun Dust,
Creamy, and Pearl

The sweet news for the day was that I sold my mom's Honda without even trying--I even had three people contact me about it--and it looks like the person who is buying the studio might be interested in rehabbing it and living there! I didn't meet her, but my friend Becky did when she was there in my place for the inspection, and apparently the woman buying wanted to keep the woodwork and also expressed interest in keeping the chickens. We have three of our original girls left--Creamy, Cookies & Cream, and Sun Dust--and one adoptee who was nonetheless from the same hatching as our girls--Muffin. They're all getting on in years and I'm not sure how much longer they'll be laying, but they are sweet and friendly and eat bugs.

Tomorrow is the day I have been dreading ever since we decided to move: The day to pack the cases of glass. Oh I got rid of about half of my glass in the studio sales, but the hard stuff to pack--the large sheets of architectural clears and the stained glass--barely even got touched. This is glass I have moved around for over 20 years and haven't really touched in all that time, but still haven't let go. I did try. I managed to sell a good part of a case to a lovely couple at the last sale, but today we only had a few people and no really large glass purchases.

But this move I won't pack alone. I hired two men for three full days to help me pack sheet glass, and Becky has offered to come on Tuesday for a bit. I had hired a woman from Task Rabbit that packed for me a day last spring to come tomorrow too, but she had to cancel at the last minute. Maybe I'll try to find someone else. One way or another, we'll be out by Friday, and it will be all over but for the closing.