Officially we are out of the lower Walligford/Gas Works Park area.
Unofficially, we rented a storage unit just up the ways from the old apartment so we could decide what, oh dear gods, what, we will do with all the junk that's been collected these past two (maybe several) years. (Hello Goodwill!)
And what, oh what, shall I do with my banana-tired broken bicycle. As Andy was cleaning out some of his life's
baggage memorabilia, I realized I've shed many things in the last 17 years. (you know, pretty much the last time I had a stable home)...every so often something gets lost or just needs to go...I'm thinking of the huge purge my X and I had when we were packing to go off to Mexico...I thought myself pretty good at the not being connected to a bunch of things that meant so much I needed to keep them forever and ever.
Yes, I know I was only lying to myself. I cherish certain pieces of jewelry, doo dads, and gee gaws and should not be so shocked that I am having a really hard time parting with my bike. Maybe because there was a fight to keep it? Maybe because it's gone from the Big Island of Hawai'i to Los Angeles to Seattle? It's a pretty big gee gaw, that's for sure.
Because really? It needs to go. It's too heavy for me now, thanks to my still healing sternum, and for at least one year (until the lease is up, you see) I will not be riding my bike. I'm not so crazy that I think I can ride my bike in South Lake Union with all the cars and the busses and the silent but very deadly electric trolley thing!
This is also what they call growing up or something, right?
So I've emailed the one bike shop that I know of that sells Ralieghs and that took a whole lot out of me.
More than moving.
More than hunting around for hours the other day looking for one measly bowl to eat my cereal out of. (Let me not get started on the boxes that now need to become unpacked and their innards put away somewhere...)