And why I choose to disparage female dog's, I can't explain. I'll hazard a guess that it's just a bad habit.
Each room of our house has a stack of packed moving cartons and a couple of open, partially full cartons waiting for completion. In some ways, this is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle that has multiple solutions built into it.
As I pack, I use the balanced weight theory. A box full of books is heavy. A box with some books and some knickknacks or linens is easier to pick up and move. This takes planning flexibility and patience. As my wife will be more than glad to inform you, I have some capacity for the first two and almost none of the last. We'll see.
We agreed that only in some circumstances would we move something we haven't touched in the time we've spent here. If we haven't needed it in the last eight and half months, we more than likely don't need it. Since she hates my corduroy sports coat I'm sure she's hoping that it will go into the Goodwill bag. Sorry Babe, I slipped it on to take out the garbage the other morning, when it was chilly. That counts! Right?
At this time of year, the weather down here is as close to perfect as I can imagine. We have cool nights (40's - 50's) and warm sunny days (60's - 70's), with some enchanting foggy mornings.
The birds must be hooking up. Otherwise, I can't explain the cacophonous racket they are making. I know there is no housing shortage for them.
As I write my last Blog, from the shores of Lake Ponchartrain, I harbor a few regrets. For many reasons, we could not travel to nearby places that would have been worth seeing. Natchez, Moble, and Gulf Shores come to mind. There are a couple of restaurants It would have been fun to check off the bucket list. The Bon Ton for example. Fortunately, we have good friends here so we will have abundant reasons to revisit this place.
All in all the disappointment is pretty well covered with the feeling that it wasn't all bad. Expensive and certainly not what we planned, but there is always something to be gained by experiencing another culture and make no mistake this another culture. Some of the things about The Deep South are enviable and others are best left here for those, who for whatever reason embrace it where I can not.
I love the traditions established by the early French and Spanish immigrants. Most people have heard of Mardi Gras, The French Quarter, and Super Dome, but there is more to the New Orleans area than these more noticed places and traditions. It's the language, the food and the music that make this place what it is. Immersion in these things gives you access to the better facets of this place.
I'm afraid that what I don't like about this place I can not leave behind. The political divide, racism and metro v rural tensions await me in Wisconsin.
I wish you all well until we meet again. I will continue to rant ad rave but I sure it will lose that far away feel to it. I will be taking the week off to concentrate on relocation, but I will be publishing again once I get the tent pitched
For the last time in SE Louisiana, as I strike Camp Jeff on the foggy shores of Lake Ponchartrain and pack up for the trip to the Frozen Tundra, this is Poppa Jeff signing off.
Each room of our house has a stack of packed moving cartons and a couple of open, partially full cartons waiting for completion. In some ways, this is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle that has multiple solutions built into it.
As I pack, I use the balanced weight theory. A box full of books is heavy. A box with some books and some knickknacks or linens is easier to pick up and move. This takes planning flexibility and patience. As my wife will be more than glad to inform you, I have some capacity for the first two and almost none of the last. We'll see.
We agreed that only in some circumstances would we move something we haven't touched in the time we've spent here. If we haven't needed it in the last eight and half months, we more than likely don't need it. Since she hates my corduroy sports coat I'm sure she's hoping that it will go into the Goodwill bag. Sorry Babe, I slipped it on to take out the garbage the other morning, when it was chilly. That counts! Right?
At this time of year, the weather down here is as close to perfect as I can imagine. We have cool nights (40's - 50's) and warm sunny days (60's - 70's), with some enchanting foggy mornings.
The birds must be hooking up. Otherwise, I can't explain the cacophonous racket they are making. I know there is no housing shortage for them.
As I write my last Blog, from the shores of Lake Ponchartrain, I harbor a few regrets. For many reasons, we could not travel to nearby places that would have been worth seeing. Natchez, Moble, and Gulf Shores come to mind. There are a couple of restaurants It would have been fun to check off the bucket list. The Bon Ton for example. Fortunately, we have good friends here so we will have abundant reasons to revisit this place.
All in all the disappointment is pretty well covered with the feeling that it wasn't all bad. Expensive and certainly not what we planned, but there is always something to be gained by experiencing another culture and make no mistake this another culture. Some of the things about The Deep South are enviable and others are best left here for those, who for whatever reason embrace it where I can not.
I love the traditions established by the early French and Spanish immigrants. Most people have heard of Mardi Gras, The French Quarter, and Super Dome, but there is more to the New Orleans area than these more noticed places and traditions. It's the language, the food and the music that make this place what it is. Immersion in these things gives you access to the better facets of this place.
I'm afraid that what I don't like about this place I can not leave behind. The political divide, racism and metro v rural tensions await me in Wisconsin.
I wish you all well until we meet again. I will continue to rant ad rave but I sure it will lose that far away feel to it. I will be taking the week off to concentrate on relocation, but I will be publishing again once I get the tent pitched
For the last time in SE Louisiana, as I strike Camp Jeff on the foggy shores of Lake Ponchartrain and pack up for the trip to the Frozen Tundra, this is Poppa Jeff signing off.
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