When I’ll Be Back Again

Pack that for me, will you, darling?

This weekend, we’ll work our shapely rears off getting into the house and out of the apartment. No one said it would be easy but with Almanzo out on the prairie, my sisters scattered across the Northeast, and my friends perfecting their dog-days ennui, someone should have said moving would be diamond-hard, though my ex-husband is lending me a truck so I can move in with my boyfriend.

But far be it from me to disappoint you! If it will positively ruin your weekend if you can’t help me walk a couch six blocks, email me. It’s going to be some parade.

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