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Tuesday, October 28, 2008


The moment of truth has arrived; the moment you have all been preparing me for. It is supposed to snow tonight. Not much snow by your standards: 4-8 inches here in Queensbury and a foot in the higher elevations. Rick, our home remodeller who has become a part of our family came in to prepare me.

"You won't need to break out the blower," he said, "just use the shovel on this one. In fact, I'll put the shovel out where you can find it."

He went on to explain how heavy wet snow on the remaining leaves could lead to snapped branches and downed power lines. "It's the loss of power that gets you," he went on. "You have no computer, no way to read, no TV and no heat. It's just several days of camping out in the dark. That's what drives people crazy. Did you know that Vermont has the highest rate of suicide due to the long, dark winters? But not to worry, we aren't in Vermont."

"No," I thought, "But we are right next door. We get the same snow, the same dark, and make the same syrup. It seems to me that we are kinda like kissin' cousins to Vermont. But we'll be okay. We've already been camping out for longer than three days. It's made us a bit daft, but it hasn't driven us over the edge yet."

Would you believe that all of our furniture and boxes are now in the house. We (well, Susan was still in Philly with her dad) moved in on Saturday, with help from four guys I hired. Did I mention that the movers were supposed to arrive at 9:30 am when the weather was very nice? If they had come then instead of at 3:30 pm we would not have been moving in the dark, in a driving rainstorm and I could have turned the truck in earlier that 10:00 pm. They also seemed surprised that I was concerned that what I smelled on their breath might hinder their judgement and coordination a bit.

"Guys," I told them, "I know this doesn't look like much, but it's all we have. Take care of it please."

But it's over! We have our stuff under one roof. Now the fun part, making a house a home. Susan has excelled as a homemaker in the eleven houses in which we have lived. Books and favorite chairs; blankets and family pictures; a place to sit and a place to read and, before long, it's home. In fact, I have Susan and her friend Pat working in the kitchen as I write - perhaps tomorrow I'll get some grits!

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