Packing

My inertia is getting the better of all my plans. I have a household of objects to get rid of by the 7th and all I have done is forgotten stuff. Well not completely, I forgot to deal with the fridge and I have still not advertised the washing machine. I will never collect stuff again. Belongings that cannot be carried are in fact prison bars. The wonderful life of a nomad is opening up before me.

While I have been here I borrowed a sewing machine. Great fun to be able to zip up a skirt or two, mend things quickly but everything I have done with the machine I could have easily accomplished with a portable, use-anywhere needle. Hmm, it makes me wonder just what is progress. Why do we qualify our lives, status and future by what we own.

I am saying goodbye to family: sister, nieces, nephews and temporarily my son and his family. I have to turn this into a ''see-ya'' because my heart is having a bit of difficulty dealing with it all. When I sailed, well flew, off into the magic of Oxford all those years ago it never occured to me that it would be longer than a term or two. Thirty seven years minus a few vacations have made a difference. The last portion of the time spent in Tennessee were the years of learning that I am a person in my own right. This year in Australia has helped me understand who I am and what I want out of the daylight hours.

Enough days have passed and the apartment is empty - well probably the new tenant has moved in by now. So many boxes so few containing anything other than stuff. I did find a few rocks that my 'helpers' thought were objects for the trash can - to the rocks I keep the TV I gave away. There is a curious connection between found ojects and the finder that cannot exist if money has changed hands. If you can pay for it 0 so could others but if you find something it means a lot of people have passed by without 'seeing' the treasure you now display on your $5.00 IKEA coffee table - Op Shop find.

At the end of the move I find that stuff really is imprisoning. My prize possessions are worth pennies and the things that cost me significant money were mercifully carried off by others.

Preparations....

My renewed passport arrived yesterday. Why do they send the old one back? As I sent it off I thought about the freedom of getting rid of that younger, thinner, not bad looking even if the glasses were a bit too BIG, official photo of self. And there is was in the envelope having made its way to the States and back again with a tidy row of holes punched in the side. There I am mocking the the 70 lbs of excess self so evident in the new photo. Oh well at least this way the customs guy will not think I've stolen someone else's passport when I front up to the counter.

Talking about customs I really never plan to go through Vancouver ever again. The airport itself was probably not so bad but talk about unfriendly. I could rave on for some time about the nasty experience - no I had not visited Canada, I was in transit. The length of my visit was two long painful hours! Now that I have a Canadian niece-in-law I have to be polite and stop griping about the officious officials of our cousin state.

The economic crash of the US is a little daunting but I am not going back for the mythical riches of the American dream - just a little family. I have a fantasy of visiting my girls in Ohio.

A lot of changes started in my way of looking at life with these two little dogs. They had been picked up as tiny puppies wandering the street and nursed to health by the Young Williams Animal Center. Finally when I decided to come back to Australia I had to choose between stuffing them on an aeroplane in the cargo hold and then leaving them in quarantine for half of forever. Spice would never have lasted and Honey would have gone crazy with anxiety or leave them behind. So I gave them to a wonderful lady in Ohio. The last I heard they were loving each other like always and as curious as they should be.

There have been too many victims along the way, maybe that's why I seem to hit the wall when I see bullies having their way during the day.

Preparations continue. A friend helped me divest myself of a closet of ugly clothes - ugly because they did not fit or suit me and that solved the excess baggage problem. Now I have to find someone who would like to buy a washing machine!

May the world snooze and do no harm.

Returning to where I started...

With friends and family at opposite end of the world, I decided to start a blog to keep in touch.

I've lived in Canberra now for almost a year and have started preparing to return to the USA in November. I tried to make the change and come back to Australia after nearly 40 years away - I made a few mistakes but learned a whole lot along the way.

• You can go home again but you just have to work out where it is.
• Stuff is worse than handcuffs
• There is nothing better than watching a mob of galahs at breakfast
  

I arrived in Australia looking for the future in the past and found a bunch of new friends who helped me laugh while I gathered the pieces of myself and put the puzzle of who I am back together. I seem to have turned out a little differently than I remembered. I have found it rather difficult dealing with the time differences for making phone calls but rather surprising to me was that in the midst of all the wonder and beauty of the Canberra countryside, while watching the unbelievable sky, listening to the wild chatter of the feathered inhabitants of my neighbourhood I decided to go back to the States. It is a mystery. Maybe I just want to flit from US to Greece to Australia for the rest of my life. Now that would be trip worth living for.