It’s
moving day, for better or worse. Already emotional and physical wrecks
over the preliminaries, today we are supposed to
get the bulk of our stuff out of 396 Salem St. in Malden just a few block
down from Malden High School, and into an empty room graciously lent
by a friend and neighbor even closer to the school, until we return from
Ecuador and find a new place to live. The
14-foot U-Haul promised for yesterday never appeared, so we
are hoping
they make
good
on our
"guaranteed"
reservation
and fix us up this morning.
By the time we get on the flight to the conference Tuesday afternoon
we should be a blubbering, blabbering bruise, but at that point it will
be too late to do anything but husband our resources and try to muster
the energy to give decent presentations Wednesday and Friday. Oy vey,
we’re getting too old for this.
Kitty lovers, keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer, because our
supposed cat savior is expected to stop by at one to meet the little
critters, and if all goes well, take them to a better place.
Of course, the Dowbrigade, habitually broke and with the cultured cheapness
of an unrepentant academic, eschews professional movers, preferring to
bite the bullet and carry out the move ourself. Anyone who is at loose
ends, feels like lending a hand, or just wants to see
what
kind
of declass
It’s