R & R

We are now six days away from our move.  Boxes, piles, tape and marking pens surround us.  Books weigh more than they used to.  I feel my standards for organization slipping. 

I took time out yesterday to go to a wedding.  For four hours I was bathed in optimism and goodwill.  With the other guests, I listened to vows that drew married couples closer together to hold hands and remember.  For a brief time, there was only tomorrow - no yesterday. Oh, this is a modern couple.  They have been together for some time.  But standing before friends and family, and dressed like the figures on the cake, they grinned and glowed with anticipation.  The music was fine and some danced.  The food was good.  The toasts were short and thoughtful.  Old friends rewove the threads of their lives.  A summer evening out on the lawn with people all hoping for the good fortune this young couple seek.

Ageless Women?

Why are women who appear on stage or in film, or on television not content to wear their age as it happens?  Skin sags a bit, wrinkles etch the face, hair grays.  Why do women try to hide all this?  I acknowledge that men also touch up their hair and have a surgical tuck or two.  But women go to extremes. Blond is a recessive gene.  Why has it become the must-have hair color for TV anchors?  Why isn't gray hair revered as evidence of the wisdom that comes with passing years?  Age brings plenty of aches and limitations.  It's too bad that, for women, it also brings such denial.

HFS

Stumped?  It stands for Homeseller Fatigue Syndrome.   My husband and I suffered from Homeseller Fatigue Syndrome as weeks and months passed and the market continued to slip away from us. Our house finally sold, and just in time.  We are moving in two weeks.

Moving is not for sissies.  My back aches just thinking about it.  It reminds me, however, of childbirth.  We have reached that important stage in the process at which we can get into motion. We are no longer waiting for events over which we have little control.  The prospective owners want us out, and our new house beckons.  My blog will ride along in the back seat.  I'll post when I can.