Moving Day

Well, yes, it was indeed moving to have my first class with 8^th grade and discover they remembered everything I taught them about the 12-bar blues in a 3-class session four months ago! And to have my first class with the five-year olds whom I hadn’t taught since they were three and to have my first preschool singing time, complete with the seven guest interns. And then to go visit my Mom with two of the interns and play some piano, flute, ukelele trios, much to her— and the other listening residents— delight.

But that’s not what this title is about. No metaphor here. It simply is moving day for both of my daughters beginning separately a new chapter in their lives. Talia is forsaking her old room in our house to live with some roommates some 12 blocks away and re-start her San Francisco life. Kerala is moving to a house in Portland, Oregon they quickly bought to settle in for husband Ronnie’s three-year chiropractic training and little Zadie’s formative preschool years. According to my limited math skills, the chances that they’d both be moving into a new house on the same day is 365 to 1!  But so it is. I’ve already taken a few trips with the local move, mattresses, bed frames, desk and such, but can’t be of much use to the one due north. Awww, too bad! J

I myself haven’t moved in 31 years and though have made many small changes in my teaching room and had to deal with shifting auxiliary spaces at school, mostly have stayed in the same place at work as well. With the pleasure of not packing boxes and spackling and endangering my back and more comes the price of drowning in accumulated stuff. A constant theme for me lately that a move would help solve. But nothing on the horizon as far as I know.

So on this last day of August, all energy turned to the new year as schoolteachers know it, I wish them both the best as they prepare their separate nests for the adventures to come. May their homes be filled with strong foundations and strong friendship, good stoves and good times— and lots of love.