Moving Again

I'm moving again. Boxes are everywhere. Random items lie around me-ones that don't belong in a particular group.

A boxing glove.
A plastic pair of gloves for cleaning.
Two hand wraps.
A tape dispenser.
A calendar.
A pipe.

There is something relieving about moving. It keeps you always aware of what you have. Why have all this?

Nigak is not quite sure what is happening. She keeps close to me- not close enough to touch. But close enough to know that she's close. It's my goal to play with her at least thirty minutes every day. I figure that is the very least she deserves.

But I'm a busy gal. And there are reasons why I own a cat. And because they can be alone is one of them.


Moving is a time to reassess your life. You have to touch everything you own. And decide whether or not you want to keep it or throw it away. Most the time its a keep. But you still have to ask yourself that question with every single thing you touch.

I don't want to move junk. I don't want to move, or live, in clutter.

Someone the other day told me he won a $100 clay bowl from a fundraiser. He described how beautifully crafted the piece was. He then told me how he gave it to a mother of his friend. When I asked him why didn't he keep it, he replied that he was a traveller. He didn't need something like that. But it brought the woman joy.

Regardless, I don't want to own junk. And I don't want to keep junk. Going through it every once in a while is a good time to make sure I don't.

What's the craziest thing you own?