moving

boxes. boxes. boxes. we are swimming in crumpled-up newspaper and junk mail used as packing paper, bits of bubble wrap, and discarded, forgotten sticky tape pieces that somehow find the underside of your foot.

we aren't quite finished yet. but will be soon. the hassle of moving i hate, but when i really think about it, i don't might the hard work. there is a pleasure to be had, when at the end of the day, your feet hurt, your legs are sore and tired and you know you will sleep like a baby because you worked hard and earned it. :)

the new place is fantastic and wonderful. thanks.

cheers,
L