Moving: Lesson 5

I learned this week that when you’re moving you look at life differently.

Take this morning, for example.

My 6:30 breakfast bowl of last night’s subgum chow mein was bliss with every bite.

Besides, my kitchen shelves were bare of bran flakes and bagels.

Well, actually bare of everything.

But flexibility is the key these days. And I’ve even taken a few cues from my chi-doxie Grandma Greta.

The poor four pounder lost her library desk (a.k.a. perch) Thursday in a preliminary sweep of broken furniture before our movers’ arrival next week.

Her day throne’s been located there where she’s been empowered to bark orders down at Tuck, the terrier, whenever she deems necessary.

Yet somehow 16 year old Grandma Greta adjusted, moving that throne with her tiny teeth over to a high chair she found even more regal.

I’ll also be taking up temporary quarters for a few days, but my throne will be a pink yoga mat with my purple sleeping bag.

After breakfast, Greta turned her attention to me and barked that I should get downstairs and work on cleaning out that basement.

Not my favorite activity on a perfect September day, knowing our leaves are beginning to show their full palette of colors.

I went to the basement anyway and kept on working, trying to find a little joy below ground.

But it just wasn’t there.

I did make some progress, but eventually grew weary.

Then Greta gave me a jolt, barking at a visitor who’d left a package on the doorstep.

Climbing upstairs I saw the box was from a blogger friend and fiber artist, Syl Strawbridge.

Inside I found a card that read in part, “Thanks for Your Positive Energy”!

Her supportive words gave me my spirit right back. Along with a smile.

Next, I pulled out a beautiful long scarf that she’d made.

The colors were from that full palette of autumn colors I was so missing today.

Still wearing my smile, I skipped back down the stairs to the dirty basement.

I opened the windows wide and felt the cool breeze.

I let the fresh autumn air dance in the room, while I did the same with my broom while I swept.

And for the first time in years, I found joy in that old basement.