Arrival

I left Connecticut at 9:05 this morning and arrived at the seminary at 3:10 this afternoon. That included a break for lunch and two stops to stretch and walk around. The only traffic I encountered was the tail end of rush hour heading into Stamford and Greenwich. I spent about 5 1/2 hours driving, including two wrong turns in Alexandria. Fortunately, I remembered some of the landmarks and turned around before I got lost.

I already had mail waiting for me when I checked in at the Welcome Center (thank you for the card, Rachel!), and Katie, my new boss, came over to greet me. I moved some of the stuff from the car into my temporary quarters in the temporary guest house, the building in the picture. I'll be meeting a friend for dinner in a few minutes.

Yes, there were tears as I left home. They held off until I was out of sight of the house and lasted until I passed Exit 7 on the Thruway. After that I focused on the trip. It felt weird to pass exit from the New Jersey Turnpike to the Pennsylvania Turnpike and knowing that I probably won't travel to my brother's that way again for a long time. And I passed the exit in Maryland where I'd get off to visit Kurtis when we were dating. Then it was into new territory: the Beltway and into Virginia. The fact that I recognized landmarks when I got into Alexandria means I should learn my way around pretty quickly.

There were moving trucks at the guest house, so I can guess what's facing me tomorrow.

Departure

So Abram went, as the Lord had told him; and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he dparted from Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai and his brother's son Lot, and all the possessions that they had gathered, and the persons whom they had acquired in haran; and they set forth to go to the land of Canaan. Genesis 12:4-5

If Abram could do it at 75, I can certainly do it at 52.

This is the starting point for the journey, my childhood home where my mother still lives. It's changed a lot over the 50 years my family has lived there. I expect there will be some small changes the next time I see it.

As you read this, I am somewhere on the road between Darien, CT and Alexandria, VA. The wonders of technology allowed me to write this post ahead of time and schedule it to publish at noon today. Starting today, I'll have a second blog: A Connecticticut Yankee in Robert E. Lee's Back Yard. There I will post my reflections on being a Yankee living in the South.

And so the adventure begins.

The Yankee Heads South

Through the wonders of technology some of you who followed the link from my other blog, I'm Fluting as Fast as I Can, will be reading this before I actually arrive at my new home at Viginia Theological Seminary in Alexandria, Virginia. Arlington is just north, and Robert E. Lee's estate there became Arlington National Cemetery. Thus the title of this blog. Not entirely accurate, but I like the sound of it.

And so the Yankee is driving south to Virginia. The adventure begins.

One Day

My last day at Betania/Grace coincided with Bilingual Sunday. I preached, but I didn't preach in both languages. As you can see in my previous post, I did use a little ASL and a little Spanish, but it was primarily English. Short and sweet. Followed by the parish's third farewell event this month, this time for me. Followed by my last Vestry meeting. At least my last Vestry meeting at Grace.

After all the church events, I took a break and visited my friend Rachel. She gave me a going away gift--a set of Anglican Prayer Beads made with Green Kyanite and Garnet beads. It's absolutely beautiful and came with a crocheted pouch and an appliqued pouch. She really outdid herself with this one.

Then I returned to Mom's to reorganize and repack the stuff that had to go in the car for the trip to Virginia. Mom and I work well together. We consolidated things so I had fewer containers going back into the car, and we packed more efficiently, so there will still be room even after the last minute stuff goes in tomorrow morning.

The trunk:

The back seat:

It's hard to believe my first interview at the Seminary was March 7, and in less than two months I accepted the new position, planned and implemented the move, and tied up all the loose ends here. Most of them, anyway. Such a whirlwind.

I hope to be on the road sometime between 9 and 10 tomorrow morning. That way I should hit I-95 after the morning rush here and arrive in the DC area before the evening rush starts there. By this time tomorrow evening I'll be in my new city, if not in my new apartment.

And so to bed...

The Last Sermon

Fourth Sunday of Easter
Year B Revised Common Lectionary
Acts 4:5-12, John 10:11-18

[Signed facing the congregation.] Please sit. [Motion them to sit, if they don't.]

[Signed facing away from the congregation.] May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.

[Facing the congregation.] Did you understand what I said? Well of course not, I had my back to you. Let me try again.

[Signed facing the congregation.] May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.

Did you understand it that time? Probably not, unless you know ASL, American Sign Language.

Pido disculpas a nuestros hermanos y hermanas que hablan español. Un semestre de español en la universidad no es suficiente para hablar mi sermón en ambos idiomas.

Those of you who speak only English probably didn’t understand that either. I was apologizing to our Spanish speaking brothers and sisters because one semester of college Spanish isn’t enough for me to preach in both languages.

So here’s what I was saying at the beginning [signed and spoken]: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.

See how quickly something so familiar can become so incomprehensible? And by preaching primarily in one language, many members of the congregation will not fully understand what I’m saying this morning. This breaks a pretty clear rule about communication within a community. Being in a community means communicating clearly with one another so that everyone understands. Fortunately, this community has members that are bilingual, and a good number of folks who manage to talk WITH each other in simple words and phrases of both languages. These folks are practicing community. They are welcoming each other into deeper community.

Unfortunately, welcome isn’t a word we’ve used very much here lately. Saying farewell is something Grace Church has become accustomed to over the last few years. In many ways it has become our focus. And the focus of those on the periphery of the community. Have you noticed? Any time there's a hint that the parish may be closing, the pews are filled with folks who come to say goodbye.

And this month has been particularly painful with the departure of Betty and Abbott White, beloved members of this community for over 50 years. Of Shane and Clara Marcus, who shared their many gifts with us for the past year. And now me. At least as many people I know in the Betania part of the community have left us in the last year or so as well. In many ways, it has been a long goodbye.

In many ways, that is what the Easter Season is, Jesus’ long goodbye. After the shock of his death, the community he left behind is just beginning the grieving process when Jesus reappears among them. He consoles them. He encourages them. He teaches them. And while we watch Jesus through these 50 days in the Gospel readings, we also see his followers taking their first steps as a resurrection community in the first chapters of Acts. They go out to spread the good news. They teach, preach, heal, and encourage. AND they welcome new members. Their community is experiencing new and exciting things.

It is a season of both and. Jesus is present, and he is leaving. His followers are grieving, and they are engaging the world in new ways.

You, too are entering a season of both and. People are present, and they are leaving. You are grieving, and yet new and exciting things are on the horizon for you. Of course, things start to fall into place just as I leave. So look at this season as a new beginning, just as those of us who are leaving are also experiencing new beginnings.

So as I take my leave, I want to leave you with three things. First, to encourage you to listen to your leaders and learn from them the many ways to communicate with one another. And I’m not just talking about Lois, Jose, and Sally. Your lay leaders, both of Grace and Betania, are also showing you many things. Learn to communicate in ways that build relationships and trust, both of which help create a stronger community. Second, as you grieve, take advantage of the new opportunities coming your way. Go out and preach the good news. Teach, preach, heal, and encourage. AND welcome new people into the community.

Lastly, I leave you with a blessing.

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24–26)

I'm Done

A last look at the old place. This afternoon I picked up the last mail delivery, cleared the last of my stuff out and left the keys on the kitchen counter. I still have to repack the car for the drive on Monday, and in the process I may throw away still more stuff. Or maybe I'll box some of it up and have it shipped down. I'll think about that on Sunday afternoon.

The To Do List, however, isn't quite done. Sermon, return extra rope and packing paper, finish making address changes.

But first I'm going to take a short rest.

Exhausted

The pod is on its way to Virginia. They came and took it this morning while I was at the dealership having the last repairs done on the car.

I spent most of yesterday packing, schlepping, and securing the last few things that needed to go in the pod before they came to pick it up. I did have a couple of breaks. I had lunch with Mom, and we met with Lois during her Open Table at Dunkin' Donuts. In the evening I attended my last executive committee meeting at church. That meant I finished up the last of the packing after 10 p.m. This is what the looked like before I closed it up and locked it.

I probably could have done with a 12 foot container, but they didn't have any when I made the arrangements.  After I got back from the dealership I cleared and cleaned the kitchen

the small room

and the large room (I'll have more pictures tomorrow). The car was stuffed by the time I was done. I wanted to stop a bit earlier, but I had to finish the vacuuming today because they turn off the power tomorrow. Fortunately, a neighbor stopped by and helped me lug the mattress and box spring out to the dumpster. Starting tonight, I'll be at Mom's until I leave for Virginia.

Tomorrow I'll go back, clean the bathroom, and pack up the last of the cleaning supplies and the last lamp. And at some point I'll repack the car so that things fit a bit better. Right now I feel a bit like a refugee.

After dinner Mom and I worked on the parish web site. She's taking over as web master. Teaching someone to do something that you do almost without thinking requires a lot of thought about how to explain the process. And remember to be patient though you're tired. Two days of physically exhausting work followed by an evening of mentally exhausting work, and you'd think I'd be ready to collapse into bed and fall asleep. Yet I find myself wide awake. Maybe because I have to remember where I stashed the paperwork I need for a couple of errands tomorrow.

For those of you keeping track, the sermon is about 2/3 done, and four days!

Five Days

I finished packing the pod by car headlight this evening after a meeting. Well, I thought I finished. As I got ready for bed, I remembered the under the bed box with miscellaneous stuff in it and the butterfly chair that is serving as a clothes rack today. I'm not opening the pod yet another time this evening. I'll put them in tomorrow morning before they come and take it away. And I'll take a picture so I know just how well we packed and secured everything when we open the pod at the other end.

What's left? A pile of things to go to Goodwill, a pile of stuff to throw in the dumpster, and the items that are going with me in the car. Then I clean the apartment for the last time.

And now back to working on Sunday's sermon.

One Week

Seven days, or 168 hours, or 10,080 minutes, or...

Time is an interesting concept. What we call time is our way of marking change in ourselves and the world around us. We created many ways of keeping track of time, and yet time remains fluid and changeable. Don't believe me? Think back to your childhood. What were the days leading up to Christmas like? Now remember last Christmas. What were those days like as an adult?

For me, the 13 months after the elimination of my position dragged. Yes there were periods now and then when things happened rapidly, but mostly my experience was long and drawn out. The last two months, however, especially the last 40 days, have gone by with amazing speed. But now, with the start date set, employment paperwork filled out, and the majority of the packing done, this week seems to be crawling. In spite of the number of things I still need to get done before I leave for Virginia. My calendar is full, and the To Do List, while shrinking, is still lengthy.

Some of the dragging time feeling is probably due to the fact that I'm at the "throw things in boxes just to get them packed" stage of packing. There isn't enough of any one kind of thing to fill an whole box. The only thing I can do is list contents on the side of each box, so I know what's in it. In addition, I'm also giving the apartment a very thorough cleaning. I am so ready to be done with this whole moving thing.

Well, not entirely. My calendar has been full of farewell gatherings. Many folks want to see me before I head south. This afternoon I took the train into the City to have dinner with Ruth-Ann, a friend, mentor, and former colleague. I went in a little early, so I could visit with some of my former colleagues at the Church Center. As it turns out, I may be seeing a many of them in the context of my new position at the seminary. Tomorrow I return to the City for lunch with another friend, and my EfM group is taking me to dinner in the evening.

And I still have to finish my sermon for Sunday.

Nine Days

This has been a long day. It began with another last. My last meeting with Holy Needles, our parish shawl ministry. And here are the last two pieces I completed as part of this ministry.

The crocheted baby blanket that I got about 2/3 of the way through and had to tear out back to the third row to fix a couple of mistakes:

And a crocheted shawl:

We presented Sally with a crocheted shawl and Lois with a knitted shawl, both made from yarn leftover from various shawls. We managed to surprise them, in spite of the fact that we've been passing both shawls back and forth for several months. The group also gave me one of the Shawl Ministry books.  This group has been an important part of my life at Grace Church, and I will miss them.

When Holy Needles finished for the morning, I headed back to home to finish staging my apartment for the packing party my friends planned. We thought it might rain, but fortunately, the weather system didn't arrive as soon as originally expected. Instead, we had a great afternoon for moving--sunny and cool.

1:30 p.m.:

2:30 p.m.

3:30 p.m.

5:00 p.m.

The crew after packing and before dinner:

I can't believe we got this much done in 3 1/2 hours! In spite of the apparent chaos at 1:30, I managed to stage things well, and the packing not only went the way I expected, it took less time than I expected. I still have some things left to load into the container, but thanks to Mike, Lisa, and Rachel, the bulk of it is done.

And after all of that, these folks took me out to dinner. The rationale for this? Their going away party for me. At least they let me buy the first round of drinks. We followed dinner with a round of Cranium before heading to our respective homes.

It's been a long day. And so to bed.

How Do You Entertain When the Glasses Are Packed?

Yesterday morning I packed up the last two boxes of books, for a total of 12. I also finished packing the CDs and DVS, which fill six smaller boxes. Mary Beth arrived at noontime to spend the afternoon. We ate lunch at a nearby Chinese restaurant. We went for a walk. My days have been, and will continue to be for the next week or so, like this. I sort and pack. I share some time and a meal with friends. I sort and pack some more. I reflect on the change looming in my future. Yesterday was Mary Beth's part of what I've come to call the long goodbye.

But she also came ready to pack. We started with my Depression Glass collection, moved on to the crystal, and then fit almost all of my dishes into the one dish barrel box Rachel and I got at the Container Store Wednesday. We took a break for dinner and came back to finish packing the glass. Except we realized that we needed more packing paper.

So we made a quick trip to Home Depot. One of the ever helpful employees asked if we needed assistance. We told him we what we were looking for, and he wasn't sure they had the paper. Packing boxes, yes; paper, probably not. He suggested a couple of other stores, so we thanked him and turned to head for the exit. Mary Beth stopped and asked me if we really thought he was right. We turned around and went to the aisle with the packing boxes. Sure enough, on the shelf above the boxes were rolls of the paper we needed.

We packed two more boxes, and then I decided I was pretty much done with packing for the day. We got a lot more accomplished then I thought we might. It was time for a drink. I went into the kitchen and realized we should have stopped at CVS for some paper or plastic cups. We'd packed all the glasses. I'd left out one mug for myself for tea at breakfast. Ummmmm... Mary Beth walked in the kitchen, looked around, and pointed to the Thermos on the shelf over the sink. "We can use that." So we toasted our day of packing with bourbon and coke in a mug and a Thermos cup.

Mary Beth left late, which is fine, since we're both night owls.

The pod, on the other hand, arrived early this morning. My phone rang shortly after 7:00 a.m. The delivery truck driver was on the other end confirming the address and that he'd have enough space to unload it once he got here. There wasn't much traffic, and he arrived just before 8:00 a.m.

As you can see, it fits in one parking space. The mechanism for unloading it needs some room on either side of it. I didn't have it placed as close to my back door as I might have liked because I'm trying to be considerate of my neighbors. Although, I seem to have a lot fewer neighbors than I did a couple of months ago. There are a handful of empty apartments in the complex, and as a result, the parking lot is pretty empty even in the middle of the night. That and the much lower attention given to maintenance and upkeep have me wondering just what's going on. It may be that I'm getting out at a good time.

Tomorrow is the packing party. I've laid in a supply of various beverages, but I have to remember to stop at Stop & Shop or CVS on my way home from dinner this evening. I don't have enough glasses for everyone!

And for those of you keeping track: 10 Days.

SEX Pizza

THE pizza place in Darien when I was growing up was Post Corner Pizza. It's still there on the corner of the Post Road and Mansfield Avenue across from the downtown firehouse. Back then they didn't deliver, but you could call in a take out order. From time to time we'd order a couple of pizzas for dinner, and Dad and one of us boys would go pick them up. One evening we ordered a pizza with sausage and extra cheese. When we arrived to get it, the box was marked SEX. Sausage Extra Cheese.

It became a family joke for years. I haven't thought about it in years. But this evening on the way back from the Container Store in White Plains, Rachel and I were trying to decide where to have dinner. We seemed to vaguely closing in on pizza at the little place across the street from my apartment, and I happened to think about Post Corner. It was on the way home, I hadn't eaten there in quite a while, and it looks like it will be quite a while before I have the chance to again. I drove by, and it wasn't that busy, so we stopped for dinner.

We did not order a SEX pizza. We had a medium tossed salad with mozzarella cheese and a medium pizza with mushrooms, sausage, and olives. We should have ordered the small size of each. I'd forgotten how large the mediums actually are, and neither of us eat as much as we used to. But it was nice to visit a memory.

After dinner it was back to the apartment with the dozen boxes and other packing supplies that were the reason for the trip to the Container Store. (Got that, Scott? A dozen boxes for a dozen days.) I packed up some of my Depression Glass and more books.

Hey, I had to work off the pizza somehow.

Thirteen Days

Today's word: AACK!

In spite of the beautiful weather outside, today I feel a bit overwhelmed. It could be the reality of the countdown hitting home. But things are pretty well organized, and I'm checking items off the To Do list at a fairly steady pace. The pod has been ordered from 1800packrat.com and is scheduled to arrive on Friday. I've notified the utilities to shut off services on the 27th. I've ordered checks with the new address for the new bank account. I picked up the change of address packet from the Post Office. Everything necessary will be done by the time I leave for Alexandria on the 30th.

Note that I said, "Everything necessary." Some things may have to wait, like making sure the car passes the Virginia safety inspection. Some things I won't be able to do until I get down there. Finding a new insurance agent, a new doctor, a dentist, a new church, etc. One more list filed in my Pocket Briefcase.

My calendar, on the other hand, is filling up at an alarming rate. Friends booking a lunch here and a dinner there. A couple of them have planned a packing party for this Saturday, which will take place after Holy Needles meets that morning.

And somewhere in the midst of all of this, I have a sermon to write.

Baby steps. One thing at a time. That's the best way to handle big projects; break them down into manageable increments. It will all get done.

Fourteen Days

The temperature reached above 80 today, and fire departments continue to worry about brush fires. I had to dig out the fan in hopes that it will draw enough cool air into the apartment, so I can sleep tonight. In the middle of April? Maybe I brought it back from Virginia. Roses were blooming when I was down there last week. It looks like we're in for a hot dry summer, and I'm moving south!

In the midst of this heat, I started to make some real headway with packing. Not so much in the number of boxes packed, but in getting stuff organized. I have a lot more empty shelves and drawers at this point in time than I thought, but I also have fewer boxes. It's a sign of how much I've de-accumulated over the last six years. Not to mention what I've tossed and given away over the past couple of weeks.

The fasting growing list is now the one of things I need to do in terms of the new job. People I need to meet with, systems to review, summer shut down to deal with.

I'll need to lay in a supply of PostIt Notes when I get there...

Fifteen Days

Fifteen days. Two weeks and one day. I look around my apartment and at my To Do list and my first response is "EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

Actually, I don't have too much to worry about in terms of packing up the apartment. Friends have planned a packing party for next Saturday. Since I'm arranging for a moving/storage pod, whatever doesn't get packed then, I can get put into the pod during the next week--my last week here.

The To Do list is another story. Most of the list consists of things I have to take care of myself.

It continues to surprise me how much stuff I'm throwing out during this process. And the number of things I've put aside to give away. Of course, some of this accumulated stuff relates to my old job, and I won't need it for the new one. That means at least three additional pieces of furniture won't make the trip to Virginia.

Okay, back to sorting...

Heading Home to Move Home

I'm on Amtrak's Train 148 heading north to Stamford after a day-and-a-half in Alexandria. I met with new colleagues, saw the new apartment, had dinner with a friend, and had the unexpected pleasure of lunch today with a friend and former colleague. I have a much clearer idea of what I'm facing in the new job, and I'm favorably impressed by the folks I'll be working with. I also know that my friends in the MD/DC/VA area won't let me become a hermit when I'm not working. I already have three invitations to local churches, a list historic sites to visit with a Civil War buff, a couple of dinner invitations, and a place to go for Thanksgiving. And I'll have an apartment big enough to invite friends to dinner at my place!

In 17 days I head back south. (That's 18 days until the new job starts, Scott!) Last night after dinner at a local pub, Kellee drove me back to the seminary, where I was spending the night in the temporary guest house. "Should I take you home, or do you want to see a little more of Alexandria?" she asked. "It really is home, isn't it," I said before answering the question.

There's no place like home.

Home for the holidays.

Home is where the heart is.

You can't go home again.

A man's home is his castle.

All of these sayings take on new shades of meaning as I contemplate the reality of leaving the only area I've ever lived in.

I'm heading home, but only for a little while longer. I'd like to think that Connecticut will always be my home, just as Darien will always be my hometown. But I wonder how long it will be before I start saying "I'm going to Mom's" like my brother does whenever he and his family head up to Connecticut?.

So tomorrow I begin finalizing the details of the move and update the final To Do list. Seeing the new apartment in person is much different than looking at a floor plan. On the one hand, I will take even less stuff to Virginia with me. On the other hand, I have a longer list of things I'll need to get once I'm moved. Do you know how long it's been since I've actually had a sofa, let alone a separate living room?

Three Weeks

Usually Easter Monday provides a moment of calm to recuperate after the frenzy of Holy Week and Easter Sunday. Even the local Starbucks is less crowded than usual this morning. But for me, today marks twenty-one days until the new job. How did it get from more than a month to three weeks so quickly?

Sorting and Packing
Notifications
Sorting and Packing
Visits with friends
Sorting and Packing
Farewell parties for other folks leaving the parish
Sorting and Packing
Holy Week

Lent got lost in the whole new job process. See the above list and add Interviews, Job Offer, and Acceptance to the top of it. So when Holy Week arrived, I figured it would offer me at least a small piece of Lent as we headed into Easter. Instead I found myself pretty much going through the motions as I continued to observe the world through the double lens of not here and not there yet.

Except for the Easter Vigil, which is my favorite celebration of the season, if not the whole year. It never ceases to touch me deeply in some way. This year, even with the double lens, or maybe because of it, the Vigil seemed to sum up the whole experience of the last 17 months, beginning in October 2010 with management notifying me of the elimination of my position at the Church Center.

And ending with a brand new job. Alleluia!

And now back to

Sorting and Packing
Closing Accounts
Sorting and Packing
Farewell gatherings with friends
Sorting and Packing
Handing off the parish web site
Sorting and Packing
Writing my sermon for the 29th...

Twenty-Five Days

The boxes continue to pile up in front of the fireplace. Pretty soon I'll have to figure out where to start new stacks.

Five copy paper boxes contain books, and I don't think I have half the books packed yet. And that's after I've sorted through them and filled a couple of bags to donate to the library and others. As a reader, I can't just throw them away. But I don't need to take them all with me. Fortunately, a branch of the Alexandria Library is about the same distance from my new home as the Norwalk Public Library is from my current one.

Three archive boxes hold genealogy files, family photos, and other family history artifacts. The files are the most organized they've been since I started working on the family history over 30 years ago. In a large part that's due to the genealogy group at church. That's something else to look for once I get settled.

Yarn and crochet thread fill a 17 gallon plastic bin. Some is left over from past projects--prayer shawls, hats, scarves, mittens, Christmas presents--some is in new skeins. All of it anticipating new projects that will have to wait until Alexandria.

Some things, in addition to the donated books, will not make the trip to Virginia. A pile of things for Goodwill covers the table. Yet another garbage bag sits in the corner for more junk. Nor will the bed be going with me. It's time for a new one, which I won't buy until I move into the new apartment.

The here and the there entwined together in the same process. This is the twilight zone that I've written about before. It deepens as I pack because, at least for me, the process of packing begins journeys through time. There is something about touching an object that opens those pathways. Sense memory, like the smell of honeysuckle that always takes me back to childhood summers. Or the taste of hot chocolate that reminds me of Mrs. Piasecki, who made it for us after we shoveled her driveway in the winter.

Some are bittersweet. The crystal dragon was a gift from Brian, with whom I shared more than a third of my adult life. The inscription my father wrote in a book given to me not too long before he died. A picture of my grandmother the last time we brought her down from the nursing home for Christmas.

So in a very real way, I'm packing my memories to go with me to a place where I will have many new ones.

Twenty-Nine Days

During the 15 months of my unemployment I have made a deliberate effort to get out of the apartment almost every day. I volunteer one day a week at the church office. I meet our priest during her open table hours at Dunkin Donuts. And I spend a lot of time at the local Barnes and Nobles and Starbucks. Free Wifi is a wonderful thing.

Yesterday I went to the Rings End here in Norwalk to look at paint colors. Rings End was founded in my hometown of Darien and now has a number of store in the state. It's the first place I think of for lumber and other building supplies, even though I usually go to Home Depot. But for painting the new apartment, Rings End is the place to go because they carry Benjamin Moore paints exclusively, and that's the brand they use at the Seminary.

This is only the third time in my life that I've chosen colors for my living space. The first time was when I got my own room after sharing with my brother for almost ten years. I picked a deep yellow-gold. The second involved one of those Everything Is A Project times when Mom and I shifted rooms in the house after Dad died, and I'd separated from Brian. That time I selected a sandy yellow. At the moment I'm leaning toward a shade of yellow for my new kitchen. Do we detect a pattern here?

Some days, of course, there's already something on the schedule. Today after services we had the farewell celebration for the Whites. It was an emotional morning. Not only were the Whites moving, but I was experiencing another one of those lasts: the last time celebrating Palm Sunday as a member of Grace/Betania. Of course, it may be the last time Grace/Betania celebrates Palm Sunday in the current configuration as well. I went home and took a nap. I started out reading, but I ended up napping.

When I woke up a couple of hours later, I took one look at my apartment and decided I needed to get out. Empty boxes, packed boxes, piles of Goodwill donations, a half-filled trash bag for the dumpster, and a desk full of paperwork piles. There are some neat areas, but they're neat stacks of packed boxes. Time for a Starbucks break. Ice tea and a good book work wonders as a restorative.

Shortly, I'll go home, fix something simple for supper, sort through another drawer, pack a box, and work on a prayer shawl while watching some television. Well, there's something else to add to my list of things to look for when I get to Alexandria, a prayer shawl group...