So I went to the dump yesterday and was determined to go again today, as I am ridding myself of all my worldly goods in an attempt to squash me and my belongings into the old side of this house so the addition, built in 2002, has none of my personal stuff in it and is instantly ready for all the B&B guests I haven't had for a month.
I also had stuff to take to the humane society thrift shop and something for Habitat's Restore, which involved loading up the car so what gets thrown out first is easily accessible and the stuff for Restore, which inconveniently for me doesn't open till 1:00 pm, closer to the front seats and last to go.
This involved a lot more thought than I am used to expending these days, and what with my Celexa not having arrived and trying to tell a friend what time I'd be meeting her for the little cultural outing we had planned when I had no idea when I'd have the car loaded or how long it would take me at the dump I was not, shall we say, calm when I turned off my very own little dirt road on to the bigger dirt road that leads to the *main* road into town.
It was with Mars/Saturn prominent in my chart that I began to write this blog, with STOP signs popping up wherever I drove. This morning it wasn't quite as literal, *just* three huge pieces of Volvo earth moving equipment right at the intersection of Village and Little Walnut. (For the first time in years there's been something resembling a monsoon season here, and the dirt road is covered with little rocks.)
I was looking at My Tax Dollars At Work, otherwise known to those of us cosmically connected to the mysterious and wondrous workings of the universe as Mars square the Sun. I was only ten minutes late for my appointment at the museum.
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