Packing and Grinning

I found myself indoors this weekend, lovely weather notwithstanding, putting fancy dishes and wedding gifts we rarely use in double-walled boxes, well secured with brown packing tape. As the dulcet sonic tableaux of Richard and Linda Thompson moved by apace on the old Harman Kardon, my thoughts turned to the unknown circumstances in which I might unpack these boxes again - what light of day will they next see?

Catching-and-releasing the melodrama and unnecessary angst associated with this thought, after a packing stint I went outside to finish a novel I've been reading, which deals with the end of the line for an advertising agency and its carping denizens. In the book, when real life events threaten the petty cube-to-cube existence of the protagonists, they resort to ever more ridiculous antics (that closely resemble my experience of dealing with change in a corporate environment).

I'm wondering if I can successfully jockey the work stress and big changes at home stress so that I worry about just one thing at a time. Whose life is like that though?

Te Voila Reparti

The side of my Spongebob Squarepants Band-Aid box tells me, in French, that I will be delivered. I hope so.

We've been in the seventh circle of condo-selling and house-buying for the past few weeks. We're in the eighth circle now, having booked a suite in a Residence Inn-type place for June 28 to whenever... the closing on our condo is at the end of June, but we have not found a place to live after that yet. The market is crazy and the experience of identifying, mapping, and visiting potential houses is an exhausting roller coaster. It's great, I love it. Oh, it has carpenter ant damage? Oh, it's on a huge hill I'll never get up or down in the winter time? Oh, it's built on an Indian burial ground? Yes, we've heard all that and more.

I realize that complaining about an activity that is not available to a lot of people in 2007 who have good jobs is the height of hypocrisy. We have chosen this path, after all. Or, it chose us, as an object lesson in patience and managing one's frustration with a situation out of one's control.

During my latest crying jag about this last night, Manny hit a 3-run homer, and I was once again reminded of the healing powers of professional baseball. And, that all this doesn't really matter that much - I have a home, wherever it is.

Open Letter to the Scotts Fertilizer Company

Consumer type: Home Gardener
Grass type: Fescue, Kentucky Bluegrass, dandelion greens, crabgrass

Hello,

I understand you are suing the Terracycle Company, a $1.5 million concern founded by college students, whose business model includes reclaiming used soda bottles to package an organic crop-enhancement material. As a longtime consumer of your synthetic fertilizer products, I must respectfully request that you cease this baseless litigation. Terracycle's packaging is clearly distinct from yours. The market share you enjoy is not threatened by this small company whose goal is to establish more conscientious choices for gardening consumers.

Thanks for your time.

L.S.M.