Transitions...

Everything about this transition has felt right, telling me that it is what I'm supposed to be doing.

Well, OK, the move WAS greuling, and I don't think I've been that tired in......ever. Corrina (who drove my car up from Virginia), and Tag (who rode shotgun with me in the rental truck) were both ready to kill me before the journey ended. Tag (now 14ish) sat bolt upright in total shell shock the whole first (approximately 14 hour) day, refusing to lay down or sleep. Which meant that he was blocking my right rearview mirror the entire time, forcing me to stay in the right lane, and hope to hell that any merging traffic was intimidated by a midlife woman and a rigid dog driving a Budget rental truck. I also managed to have a tire blow out that day - really FUN! Did catch up with a good friend for coffee and dinner. And by the time we stopped at a hotel that would take the dog, because there was no way we were making Corrina's apartment in New York, she was yelling at me to get off the road and stop hitting things! (apparently I had clipped off a little road sign backing out of a driveway and bumped into a few firmly immovable objects in the parking lot..) I suppose it's good to have sane and sensible children tell you when you're being irresponsible and reckless, but they could learn to do so more quietly and respectfully! By the second day, I figure out how to leash the dog and jerk him down when I needed to change lanes. When we reached the Maine state line, I was too tired to move another inch. Corrina was yelling at me about what we were doing, and I was trying to explain to her that this is why they call them "rest" areas, and that in fact all those truckers and people were actually trying to rest, which is what I intended to do. I rolled up my window and closed my eyes. Shortly she was pounding on my window telling me that she was going on to Rockland (about two hours ahead. The dog was near comatose by then, so I didn't have to worry about him giving me grief. In fact, I was starting to think....maybe I won't have to build that fence for him when we get there... After a little power nap, I decided to head up the road myself, with the glare and scrutiny of night road repair crews checking my sanity between long stretches of isolated Maine beauty - obscured by night and exhaustion. I arrived at the house about a half hour after Corrina, around 2AM. We fell like rocks into comfortable beds, in a vacation rental that had just become -home.
I can only tell that story and admit how stupid I was to subbornly tackle so much of the move myself......because we survived, recovered......and mostly because moving here feels so right.