Musings at a Month

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A month ago yesterday, I  arrived in Sioux Falls; Marv had come three days before.

imageWe are mostly unpacked, and for those of you who are following the story of our move from Chicago, we’ve found Box 61. Or, I should say, Marv has found Box 61. In the pantry. How it got there, I’ll never know, but he was here directing the movers when they unloaded. You can see the box labeled “Lois-Middle Desk Drawer 61” on the side, and you can barely see it, but it says “Study” in the same color on the pink cover.

Now if I were here unloading, I think I would have put this box in theimage study. But Marv’s argument is that he told me to mark boxes on the end, not the side. And, of all mysteries, the number 58 is on the side of this box in his handwriting. Number 58 in the notebook where I listed box numbers with their contents says, “Lois-Bottom right files”–meaning the bottom right drawer of the two file cabinets that support my desk top. But then, if this was truly number 58, with no room designation, how it ended up in the panty is anyone’s guess.

So what, you ask? Why even talk about it?

Here’s why. When’s the last time you and your significant other or friend had a communication mix up? How did you solve it? Go off and sulk? Blame the other as I sort of did?

Well, I can tell you, it’s best to say someone goofed and call a truce. In the hills and valleys of this life, it’s the little things that can really mess us up, but it’s the little things that really don’t matter.

I hate to tell you, though, we’re still missing a pair of Marv’s bermudas and a bag of coins, and I’m sincerely hoping they don’t show up in anything that has anything to do with me.

imageOn the fun side, I attended my first book club meeting this last week and a fitness center session with my daughter. Plus, Marv and I went to two plays with our kids, and we met them at my first farmers market here. And when we heard our grand kids holler “Grandma! Grandpa!” the fruits and vegetables only got brighter, and we could forget, for a while anyway, missing items and miscommunications we’d left at home.

Looking back on our first month here–from tedious unpacking of boxes to finding our way around a city where numbers mean little to  spontaneous chats with our kids to the delightful shouts of our grand kids to the beautiful serenity of our rolling green backyard, I’m reminded of poet Luci Shaw’s words, “I’ve often quoted Annie Dillard on being a witness to existence: ‘We are here to notice each thing so each thing gets noticed and Creation need not play to any empty house'” (Adventure of Ascent, p. 78).

There is no empty house in my mind; there are so many new things to notice.

 

 

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