Missing Dad for a change

Today I was taking a lady to visit her boyfriend – from one transitional care facility to another. They were both recovering from surgeries. I would guess her to be around 70. She was a bit chatty, though not loud enough to always hear over the bus noises. Before long I knew more about her and her health than I really care to know about any of my clients.

She told me as we approached the destination that her boyfriend would be waiting outside for her. There were several people outside so she pointed out which one he was. As I was unhooking her wheelchair I told her that he looked like a nice man. (I was sincere.) She affirmed that he was nice, very good to her. When I went down to open the lift I realized he looked a lot like my dad did in his later years with a salt and pepper mustache and his straight gray hair. He said to me, “I have something for you.” His girlfriend said, “He gives these to all the girls.” I protested, “No, no, I can't take gifts.” The man insisted.

He presented me with a small plastic ring that he had glued a dime to. “It's a dime 'n ring,” he exclaimed! “I make them and give them to all the girls.” I took the ring and smiled. It reminded me of my dad's friend, Herb who would stick a dime in a paper clip and tell me he had found a “dime 'n clip” today.

I folded the lift, filled out my paperwork and proceeded around the small complex to leave, but I found myself in tears thinking of my dad. I realized I gloss over the family members who are gone to protect myself from missing them too much.

Here's to Mom, Dad, and Lee this Memorial Day.

(Photo from 1991, Washington State)

The Cold

I know everyone is sick of the crazy temps. It amazes me that any life carries on. I went over to a friends house last night. I stopped for gas on the way. All the way out to the suburbs (17-20 mile trek) I kept thinking this is ridiculous! How do we carry on?

This morning I looked at the temp. It read -17. An hour later I checked it and it said -15. In my mind the sarcasm says, "Oh, it's warming up!" -15 is "warming"? The best part though, is what weather.com lists after it: Fair, bitterly cold.

That makes it all the more humorous. Or insane!

What Prompts Gratitude?

In my new (about 2 months now) job I meet and transport handicapped people all day long. Some have physical disorders, some have mental issues; many are invisible problems. I'm sure some have been handicapped all their lives and for others it's a recent struggle. For the most part my clients are nice. Some are friendly and talkative, others may not be able to talk. I'd say 97% of them are amiable and like getting a ride and an escort to the door; some are even becoming friends.

What struck me yesterday as I arrived to board a client with a walker who had booked to use the lift to get onboard, was that some people just have poor attitudes in general. I had just come from getting a fully immobile client at his apartment building – he was on his way to Rosedale Mall. The woman with the walker was at a grocery store between his house and the mall. The man onboard was talkative; he'd commented on the sunshine and beautiful day. I don't know why he was disabled, but he seemed to have no use of his legs and strained use of his arms – enough to operate his electric chair.

After complaining that she didn't know how she would get past the man in the wheelchair, the walker client was short with me telling me that I didn't need to tell her how to do this – she'd been riding these buses for years. In an effort to agree with her and perhaps lighten the situation I remarked, “Oh, I often tell people that you are the professional, and I am the rookie.” I glanced at the other guy with a rye smile for confirmation. Before he could say anything my walker woman retorted, “I don't think that's funny.”

I realize that she may have many other things in her life adding to the way she was treating me. Our culture values civility even from strangers in pretty much any circumstance. I finished my bit of paperwork, get behind the wheel and started out to the mall in silence. Then it hit me – I have a few physically handicapped people in my family and they never have had a bad attitude about their disabilities. I am quite sure they have been in pain and remained civil to those around them. The revelation of this brought tears to my eyes and I was thankful for this grace to me. I silently prayed a little prayer for the woman on my bus as I dabbed the tears from my eyes.

When I unloaded the guy at the mall and walked him through the doors he told me he liked my comment about them being professionals, and me the rookie. I think he felt a little sorry for me.

This story has a happy ending, the walker woman lightened and started asking questions about going to the mall. I was boarding another passenger there who was just as kind as the man I had unloaded. Those two talked a bit as we carried on. It came out that tomorrow was her birthday. I wished her a happy one as I said goodbye.

I'm grateful for work. And grateful for all God has given me, including disabled family members with good attitudes.

More for Sale

I have a few more things to post tonight. Just remember it will be better weather for baking before you know it. Fall entertaining is just around the corner

Entertaining Simple Additions Set

Autumn Colors

7 piece set

Sunflower Gold, Eggplant Purple, Cranberry Red with long platter in Olive Green

3 square bowls, 3 squares small plates, one long platter

$49

Pampered Chef Stoneware Deep Dish Baker in Hunter Green

NEW! Never used $28

Pampered Chef Stoneware Pie Plate in Cranberry

Gently Used - which just means you have a little less seasoning to do on this one.

$15

Quick Sale

Local Readers:

I have a few household items for sale  -  Please take a look over the list. Send your friends!

Beaded Pate Knife and Olive Fork

New! Set of 2, Colors: Blue, Green, Red, Turquoise, with Silver swirls

$15

African Wrought Iron Dancer Candle Holder Pair

Gently Used. Came from South Africa with me.

$12

Some would call them tan, beige or ecru, but I say it's off-white or warm white. This couch is 80” W, 40”D and 32”H. The cozy, comfy, oversized chair measures about 50”W, 40”D and 32”H. The matching ottoman is about 40”W and 30”D. It's in very sturdy condition, no wear, just needs cleaning. My home is smoke-free and child-free home, and pet free.

$300 for both or $165 for couch and $165 for chair and ottoman.

Keurig K-Cups Caribou Daybreak 24 pack

$10 each or best offer (I have two of these)

Keurig K-Cups Green Mountain Breakfast Blend 24 pack

$10 or best offer

Keurig Carousel 27 K-Cup Holder

Gently Used

$18

An African Kind of Day

Yesterday I stopped by the church office to drop off a note for my friend Alemnesh who is trying to start an orphan home in Ethiopia – one of the pastors is heading over to see her at the end of the week. I wasn't expecting to get into a conversation with the pastor, but I did. It included a big hint that I should join Alemnesh as the admin person for this project. My heartstrings felt the tug.

From there I went to a bank to deposit a check for friends that live in East Africa. I had never been in this branch, on Franklin and 26th. As soon as I was in line for a teller I was immediately transported to the Barclays Bank I went to each month to pay my rent in Nairobi! I searched the room, I was the only white person in there: customers, tellers, security – absolutely everyone was black. I suppose that would scare some people, for me it feels like home.

I could hear conversations in other languages and ones in accented English. Some were African America, others Somali and some were from other African countries. I overheard the two large dark men at the next window asking their teller where he was from. “Liberia? Do you speak French?” one man asked. “Because we speak French.”

My teller had another guy walk up while he was helping me. That teller asked where he was from. He replied, “Ethiopia” before the other guy corrected, “which branch are you from?”

When I commented that it felt like Africa in here to the two tellers at my window, the customer on the other side of my laughed knowingly. He must have been East African too. As I left, I said the my teller, “Amesegenallo, ” one of the only Amharic words I know (thank you). I heard him comment that was perfect pronunciation.

As I drove off to my next errand I wondered if I should be considering Ethiopia more seriously. I just feel I need to finish school and get a good job. I feel torn.

Looking for just the right renter...

Room for rent in no ordinary house. I'm looking for one more person to share my home. It's cozy and warm on the inside, situated in the most ethnically diverse neighborhood in the entire US. (We don't live in the 'burbs.) Your own room. Shared space with two other mature women. Garage parking, shared. Laundry on-site. Shared utilities. Big yard. Wonderful neighbors. A sense of community.

$550 + utilities + deposit. We're looking for the right fit to continue having a comfortable home. Sorry, no pets or smokers. Available June 1. Comment or send an email if you are looking or know someone.

What does my Public Relations Writing Class have to do with Orphans?

My current class is called PR Writing. I love it. So it may be no surprise that I am also doing well and getting positive feedback in the class. At the start of the class we were asked to choose an imaginary small business or non-profit to write all our pieces about.

I had my friend Alemnesh's orphan home in mind. It seemed the perfect thing. She left in April to begin laying the ground work for her home in Addis Ababa. Hopefully when she does get closer to getting the whole thing off the ground I will be able to tweak the items I've written to use in a number of ways.

Since I have been steeped in Ethiopian orphan facts, media coverage of orphan issues and general orphan statistics, I am far more aware of the pitfalls of adoption. One article I read highlighted a particular family that first promoted adoption from Liberia, then adopted several children from Liberia, and finally had failures with some of their adopted kids. It was definitely written to paint Christians in an unfavorable light. The story was bad and sad. The article's author was also on a NPR show recently. She told other horrific stories of failed adoptions and heavily insinuates that Christians are driving the market for adoption needs. In other words, if Christians didn't have the “fever” to adopt, there wouldn't be so many orphans in the world.

When I lived in Kenya in the 90s I learned that Kenyans call children orphaned if even one parent is lost. They will refer to a child who has lost both parents as a double orphan. I have since noticed that this may actually be the prevailing way developing countries all talk about children missing one or both parents. Certainly this gap in understanding skews the numbers we find on the Internet about how many orphans there are in the world. However, I don't think there is a need to say any group is bad if they are trying to promote care for vulnerable children. I do not think that we are driving a market for orphans.

My heart is wrenched thinking about hundreds, even millions of children without a mama to care for and love on them. During my adolescent years I often said out loud to my mom, “I would not have survived today without you!” I meant it. My mom was strong for me in ways I knew I couldn't be as a child. It all comes to mind with Mother's Day around the corner and so many stories swirling around in my head.

I hope that you have good memories of your mother this weekend. But I also hope that you will think about those without a mother. The amount of “double orphans” in the world today is about 3,500,000 – the size of the entire Minneapolis/St. Paul metropolitan area.

Think of them, pray for them, be grateful for what you had or have. If you want to know more about my friend, Alemnesh's ministry, leave a comment or drop me an email.

The Impact of a Positive Word

Probably more than I realize, I have been in a kind of person slump. Maybe it's the kind of thing people going through other kinds of transition face. As much as I don't buy into all the usual self-esteem jargon, and I do believe we need God-esteem, there is something to being downtrodden.

Twice in this class I'm taking, the teacher has genuinely complimented me with a specific word of encouragement. Last night's word was so powerful that three hours later when I got in my car to go home the thought of the words had me crying so hard I couldn't safely pull out of the parking lot.

This is a PR writing class. In some ways you could call it “Journalism 101” because it's basically the same kind of writing. She said to me when we sat down for a one-on-one evaluation of my last three pieces, “I really see you doing this kind of work!” She looked again at her comments written on the page. Before she said anything more she looked up again, “And you have never worked in this field?” My defense: high school journalism class. I was on the staff paper for all three years. It was taught me well back then, so I've retained it.

Today I can hardly think about her words without tearing up again. It is so significant to told by an unbiased person that you are really, really good. When your friends tell you that, it feels like they say it out of bias. I still struggle with how to put all my talents together in a way that makes me money and doesn't stress me out at the same time. But today I'm living on a little encouragement. After all, I did say I was going to school to get a piece of paper that says I know how to do what I already know how to do.

A Little Ironic

I finally came back to my blog only to declare that “Winter is Over” and then what happens? We get socked in again. Last week had me out shoveling a few times. (Tonight's forecast is for another 6-8 inches!) So far I have remained undaunted. I do not like the snow in April and I will comment about it like the rest of us. However, “winter is over” was a declaration of the end of my dark sadness of winter this year. That, I am thankful to say, has not returned. I do feel a little overwhelmed at my challenging circumstances right now, but I do not feel despair – I am grateful for that, as well.

I'm grateful for prayers to get through this job hunt and be working in something that is both fulfilling and lucrative. Thank you.

Winter is Over

It's on odd day to write that headline since last night put a thin blanket of white on my yard again and it hasn't melted as of mid afternoon. It was a dark season for me. It's just as well I wasn't writing much. I have been keeping busy with school and that keeps my writing skills active. I don't think I have ever before experienced a sort of seasonal disorder. Things looked bleak this past winter like they haven't looked for me in a long time, maybe ever. Winter is over, though.

I felt a change in the week of Easter. I'm sure the significance of this holiday had something to do with it. But also the lighter days and eventually the warmer weather. Weather that tells me this is a light and momentary snow. Even with it, I am happy to know my taxes are done, thanks to BIG help from a long-suffering friend. I'm over the half-way mark to finish school.

What I am most excited about right now is helping a friend who is leaving for Addis Ababa next week to begin the ground work to set up a children's home. My friend Alemnesh is from Ethiopia, so in a way, she is going home – even though Minnesota has been her home for about 18 years. I am helping her with the communications side of things and in the process I hope to become more informed about the plight of orphans in Ethiopia and learn how to effectively share Alemnesh's vision with those interested.

These are exciting days. I'm making no promises, but I hope to be writing much more in the coming months.

Conflicts in Theory

As usual, I'm starting to write more – just because it's the beginning of the year and I wish I had written more last year. It's like an informal new year's resolution. But it's not. No promises, but I bet that thinking about theory and analyzing how people communicate is going to make me more introspective, which, in turn, will make me want to write more. Let's see if it makes the blog.

One of the interesting things I learned about the two schools of communication theory is that they can be likened to one of scales on the Myers Briggs Personality Inventory. This was helpful since I am well read in the Myers Briggs. The scientific approach is like the sensing (S) component of the Myers Briggs; the interpretive is like the intuitive (N). There you go – no wonder I'm so torn. I have a preference in both of these areas very strongly. As in, I'm not in the middle on the S/N of the Myers Briggs, I usually test into intuitive but I have strong sensing factors built in as well. I am both a detail person (sensing) and a possibilities person (intuitive). In fact, I am so much in each of these camps that I sometimes fail to see (feel) how they are opposite sides of a spectrum. But I have read enough to know they are opposites in the Myers Briggs and commonly held that way on other scales.

I guess this further explains why I am weird. I will see how being an anomaly shakes out in the world of communication theory. By the way, my teacher doesn't believe that I am in both areas and simply dubbed that I didn't understand the continuum. Once I figure it out, I'll know where I stand.

World of Theory

This week I am starting a new class called Communication Theory and Practice. (It's all theory, as far as I can tell.) I have been dreading the class that sounds so dull and dry. I finally started my reading the other day and found it kind of interesting. I think the author of the textbook is a very personable writer – I'm sure that helps. I had forgotten that I do enjoy analyzing things sometimes. Above all, it had slipped my mind that I am studying what has proved to be a very palatable area for me. I like communication studies!

The introductory chapters have proven to be a little disconcerting, though. There are two main schools of thought in the area of communication theory: a scientific one, and an interpretive theory. Fine. As I read through a brief description of each I found that both appealed to me. But the text was clear that you probably fall into one camp or the other. In fact, scholars from the two areas are so at odds with one another they often argue and disagree. So why are both equally appealing to me?

Eventually it came out that these two can areas compliment each other and also could be seen as a continuum. That helps – a little. The problem now is that I really don't feel I'm in the middle. I truly like both sides. I want both to be the proper way to view communication theory. This remains an unsolved dilemma. I may or may not come to some conclusion. But this is for sure, it's going to be a very intense 6 weeks of communication theory. This may be the class that helps me decide how far I'm going to take this whole going back to school thing.

Oh, for cryin' out loud! - literally.

It's a new year again. I make no promises about blogging more. I had every good intention this past year and had a last minute push to beat the year before. I want to write but I don't always have something to say. That might be obvious to you from reading what does get posted. It's not always fresh on my mind to post – even if I do have something to say. But I got 2 journal and two fancy writing pads for Christmas this year, so I better do some writing if only because that was perhaps a sign.

I'm the only one in the school library this afternoon – besides the staff – I am researching how pop music, rock and roll namely, and the deejays that promoted it in the 1950s and 60s helped with the integration of blacks and white in the US. I have at least 8 books on the topic of radio or black music piled on this desk trying to find fodder for this paper. As I read there is a nostalgia that has overcome me. I'm reduced to tears for no good reason but the wonder of how our nation was built and hard-working value system we once had in America. I remember my dad once crying telling me a story of a Swedish business man trying to communicate an idea to an American business man over the phone. When he couldn't make himself understood he asked for a fax number to fax the information. My dad was in tears before he could finish the story about how it all come together because of this technology. We thought Dad was ridiculous. But I think that is how I feel today about radio. It's a little bigger picture though, because what happened in the 1950s when radio needed to find a way to compete with TV the perfect storm resulted in a boon for integration!

I don't know why it makes me feel sentimental, but it's BIG. Radio turned to pop music which eventually got called rock and roll, there were a few cutting edge deejays that took the music format to the next level by playing jazz or other black music on their radio programs of pop music. Before you know it – literally, you have dance parties with blacks and whites enjoying the same music.

Amazing. Now I need to get back to the paper writing. But it truly is an awesome convergence of media and economic developments to push us into crossing musical lines that include whites coming to love black music and vice versa.

Ending One Year, Starting Another

Well that last post was pretty serious. I know it's the season of joy but I was living in this sober state for at least part of the time leading up to Christmas. I did enjoy the few days around Christmas very much! I had friends around and made a traditional Christmas breakfast for my brother and his wife. That was a very last minute thing. I don't want to end this year without some joy and gratitude expressed for God's rich goodness to me. I wish I saw it more and more. I am very blessed to have a cozy roof over my head and a little bit of community here in my home and neighborhood. Despite being a little financially strapped at this point in life, I am so thankful for God's provision.

On Christmas Day I went to see Les Miserables. The new film adaptation of this classic Victor Hugo story was outstanding. It was filmed in a way that allowed you to feel the emotion of the moment with the characters in each scene. The picture of one life transformed by God's grace shown through another up against the grace that was rejected even in the face of “the law” not working for him is such a stark picture. I love that grace. I want to live in 2013 in that grace.

Struck with the Sadness

(I actually wrote this on Dec 18th but am just getting around to posting it today. Maybe it's best I saved it until after Christmas.)

The intensity of this season is starting to get to me. I love being in my own home with the all the homeyness this arrangement offers. I have some decorations up, including my skinny tree with all African ornaments – mostly sisal angels, mini baskets, and little gourds. It snowed properly out there a couple weeks ago so it looks like Christmastime to me.

But. An old friend passed away last week. It was unexpected. She was sick but no one thought it very serious. She had been diagnosed with cancer in the fall but was undergoing chemo and was doing well – or so it was thought. Turns out that about a week before she passed away the doctors discovered that she had a bunch of tumors. Her two daughters are in their early 20s, one still in college. I can't help thinking about G. She was the kind of friend you could pick up with again after a long time of not being in touch. I feel fortunate that I saw her about 14 months ago when I was touring with Afrizo. I stayed with her for a couple nights in their home in Queens. Now I can't stop thinking of her family and the great loss.

The news of the elementary school shootings in Connecticut was shocking. Today I saw another post on FB about ten small Middle Eastern girls who had gone to collect firewood and were blown up in a landmine explosion. I clicked on the article to see a photo of draped caskets all lined up. It hit me hard. Why is there so much death? I know this Christmas, like all since then, is a challenge for my sister-in-law who lost her mother on Christmas day eight years ago.

At the same time, I know many friends expecting babies or who have just giving birth, let me count: four just born in the last two weeks, two more on the way in the next two or three weeks. These are happy thoughts but what a world they come into.

For a moment I think of my own loss and loneliness. I am torn between the deep sadness I feel. I think of my mom while crafting for Christmas, my dad when I'm cooking a big holiday meal, my sister too with a the stories we told each other and laughed at our family history. I think too of how G is free from all the cares of this world. In some ways, I wish I were in her place. I would have been a better one to take, the losses to others would have been less and I am jealous for her freedom now. I have no daughter to get through college, no loving husband to miss me. I'm sure I would be missed but not like G is missed by so many close to her.

In some ways all of this is a distraction from Christ's appearing. He came to give life. We grieve death, but forget the eternal life that is the reality. G lives in the presence of Jesus rejoicing with no thought of the fuss on earth. I wish I could worship like that for even moments of the day. But hers is constant now. May I focus more on Him in this season and always.

Happy Reformation Day

This morning I fully intended to study. I have a paper due tonight and reading left before I can fully finish it. However, I did my quick round on the blogosphere and ended up watching a video that brought me to tears. I'm still trying to work out why it was so emotional.

Yesterday I was thinking about the fact that I don't have children and therefore my descendants will not know a very different world than I know. This thought comes from several recent other exposures:

• I watched Atlas Shrugged, Part I last weekend.
• I'm reading about worldview for my class.
• I'm recently noticed that many families in my church have mixed race families now through adoption. (Which I love but will really be different from experience when they are adults.)
• I've been thinking about my pastor's retirement and what an influence he's had on his congregation and will continue to have on those who listen to him during his retirement.

All that is to say, the world is changing – rapidly – and I have mixed feelings about missing it. In some ways I am very thankful that I don't have to navigate guiding children through the potential craziness of the future; in other ways, I would have liked to have been a guiding force of influence to some portion of the future generations.

I wish I were young in a time growing awareness of reformed theology of African Americans. There, I put my finger on it. This video brought me to tears because I love this dialogue. And best of all, I'm not really missing it. Happy Reformation Day!

Here's the video:

Sad and Glad

It’s finally hitting me, the family that I’ve known for over 5 years and that I’ve lived with two different times is about to move away -- far, far away. I have the gift of helps and sometimes I let it go a little far. However, I find there are times that call for supernatural giving beyond what you are really able to do naturally. Getting these guys ready to go has been a privilege and an honor. It’s necessary for sending them well. In many ways, it’s the least I can do because they and a whole team of others took care of my affairs while I was overseas.

I’m sad because the five little ones are so much fun to be around. The old “kids say the darnest things” quote is fleshed out in these precious little ones. Iain’s seriously worried about language acquisition which comes out something like this, “Only 3 days left? I’m not ready to go?” When asked what he needs to do he replied, “I don’t have any [of my new country’s] words yet! We need to learn our words so we can talk to the people.”

Of course, I have been building other memories with them too. A recent trip to the Renaissance Festival, one last trump through the MIA with Mags and Laena-lu, just to name a couple. Auntie Jan is going to miss them ever so much.

But Matt has been working towards this day for at least 16 years or more. He is more than ready to have a life dream come true. I’m sure he’s sad to leave his church and so many dear friends -- but he can’t wait to get there.

This is his calling. So who wouldn’t be overjoyed to be finally getting to the point you spent a third of your life preparing for, something so right that all your fiber is waiting for the fulfillment of. Not to mention the need it fulfills and the call of all believers to preach the gospel. Who wouldn’t be overjoyed to see this happen for a dear friend. There is something about this moment that says -- there is something right in the universe today, something good and perfect happening. I wouldn’t dare stand in the way.

I’m so glad they are going. I’m so sad they are leaving.

Sunday's Child

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good, and gay.

It first appeared in 1838 in a book about the Traditions of Devonshire, by A. E. Bray.

My mom taught me this poem when I was a child. I liked that I was born on the day that had the most attributes, it made me feel special. I guess that your birthday falls on the same day of the week when it's fifty years later.

Stop on over and celebrate with me between 3-7 p.m. Bonfire in the backyard.

The Great Shuffle: An Unnecessarily Long Description of One Aspect of Resettling

I packed up my house all into my attic in the fall of 2007. But I was around for a few months before I left for Kenya so I was in and out of my attic a few times. Then I was home starting in the fall of 2008 for another 8 months and I was up there again often enough to know exactly where certain things I wanted to get at were. Just before I left in 2009 I had a small influx of items from my sister’s house in Washington because she had passed away and we had shipped several boxes of photos to her when Mom had passed away in 2005. Plus my attic gained some of her artwork and eventually some pottery. I was here again briefly in the fall of 2010 and grabbed a couple of items from the attic. For the most part, my carefully packed attic was only lightly touched and mostly memorized until this point.

But when I finally landed in the Twin Cities at the start of last winter -- I was in my attic often enough to start shuffling items around. I needed some things for living. I was moving in with some dear friends who provided a bed and dresser, but I needed a winter coat and some wall decor -- you get the picture. This is when the shuffle really started.

At the beginning of June I moved back into my own home! I was elated and didn’t waste a moment of unpacking all my furniture from the attic. I nearly filled up the house. How had I managed to contain all that is my little attic? I then arranged one corner of the attic with a bed and night stand. It’s very cosy there. But I left the attic for sleeping only and set about on a million little details around the house. The details are so minute I can’t even think now -- but they managed to drain my time over the last two months. I wanted to get everything just so for sharing the house with strangers.

All this is to say I have neglected my attic until now. As I was unpacking in June I noticed that I kept some things that were very odd -- telephones and cassette tapes -- I dubbed my attic a time capsule. Finally I have to deal with the time capsule because I need a place that doesn’t take up the dining table to work. I have school to do. I looked around the other day and I couldn’t see a single surface in the attic. I have two small work tables, a large wooden desk and a laptop table but nowhere I could safely set my little Mac.

This won't be easy. I call it the great shuffle because I will likely spend the entire winter shuffling piles around trying to figure out what to keep, what to chuck, where to store things and so on. There’s a whole wall of footlockers and boxes; more in the closet and crawl space that all need to be dealt with. There are 2 boxes under the desk and several works of art under one of the tables. Maybe in the spring I can have a big sale. Eventually I will have a room back, but in the meantime, I’ll just shuffle.