The garage

The weather is perfect.  The sheep, trucked in from colder climates to graze our winter alfalfa,  are here–a comforting sign of autumn.  We worked on the garage yesterday and friends have taken the canoe, the two cabinets and the freezer.  I found the signs my husband made for the hangar in the back yard of our Southern California home so many years ago:  Airtime, Hangar Number 3,  USUA Observer.  Now memorials to his accomplishments. 

Don’t remember when I’ve been so dirty.  Sam set off insect bombs in the shed and garage in hopes that we won’t have all the bugs  migrating north with us.  Grand daddy black widows out there.

We are making a dent in the sorting, packing and parting with stuff.  Twenty nine days until the movers arrive. 

Today, however, is our Sabbath rest.  Time to recharge our spirits, rest our bodies, and prepare for the next thing.

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