As I write these words, boxes are stacked all around me. They inhabit literally every space except a small pathway for one person to squeeze between them through each room and hallway. The few pictures and decorative pieces we had on the walls and on bookshelves are gone. The books are packed. Even the stuff that was under the bed is packed, or carefully wrapped and waiting to be packed.
I can no longer deny the truth any more – my husband and I are moving. In fact we are less than a week from move weekend.
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