A Moving Journal

For those of you who didn't get the earlier post, back in early July Evernote decided to erase all the email addresses that I use to send the Wall out to you. I knew there was a way to retrieve them, but it was one of those archaic situations where you needed to be on a "desktop" computer to complete the task. Well, I was on my iPad and restricted to that or my phone. Neither of which allowed me to "retrieve" the old files. But now I am back up in Burr Ridge and have - I think - successfully got them back. I say I think because none of the internet posts purporting to tell me how to rescue the files actually worked. But as I say, I think I found a way to make it work.  So here goes. From mid-July:

Entry 1. Why the Brits Call it “Moving House.”

It seems a more realistic description of the process. We, on this side of the pond, simply refer to it as moving. Rather simplistic. I mean, you get up in the morning and set about getting breakfast - you’re moving right? But just moving doesn’t even scratch the surface of what we are going through. Moving house on the other hand, putting a whole house on your back and dragging it across the street, or across the country does seem a better description.

My car now drives itself to Goodwill, the Public Library and the county convenience waste disposal site, while I struggle with the guilt that comes with sending so many trees to the cardboard factories and plastic out into the ocean. I’m hoping the Goodwill and Library trips balance out the trash runs, karma-wise.

There is some good news today. While taking 173 pictures to add to the "for insurance list" I found myself getting reacquainted with things, paintings, masks, glass and crystal - some beautiful bits and pieces that I’d forgotten or just overlooked as they became “normal.”  The same is true with dozens, nay, hundreds of pre-digital photos that has been lurking in drawers and files. Some faded faces and places from decades ago. Even a few from the 1800s, that had undoubtedly survived multiple rounds of “moving house.” Far be it from me to break their streak, so I placed them into our “photo vault” to be hand-carried up to Chicagoland. I’m sure someday, someone will figure out who they are, and how they came to be “one of us.”

Which reminded me of a Curiosity Stream video I saw on crustaceans. I was particularly struck by the hermit crab. This feisty little sea creature goes through life “moving house” by simply slipping out of it's current shell and then appropriating a steady stream of ever larger, fully furnished, abandoned abodes, moving in and calling each one “home.” Ah, some creatures have all the luck.

Cheerio, or Raisin Bran, or Corn Flakes.