Poop (and other lessons)
Updated: Jun 22
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." - Mark Twain
"If you drive holding a bag of poop outside your car window, do not exceed 25 miles an hour." - Stephanie Gillett
Pre-move, we decided to stay two nights in our new home. We would clean and prep, measure for our appliances and purchase them. The dogs could play and relax in their new home before they had to move in. We brought a vacuum, a bunch of cleaning supplies, two chairs, an air mattress and sheets. We SHOULD have been prepared with a ladder/step stool, the Shop-Vac, and a plan to store mounting dog poop.
We walked the dogs in our unfenced back yard the same way we do here at our yardless condo, and we picked it up in our little poop bags, stacking it next to the garage for some sort of disposal on Sunday. And this, for some reason, was among the things that frustrated me to tears - I've lived the last eighteen years of my life in a comfortable house with a comfortable income, and now I don't even have a place to dispose of poop. Everything is uncomfortable again. I only know my old habits, and making new ones will be hard.
But, when we weren't walking the dogs and wondering what to do with poop, we had all the windows open, letting in breeze and sunshine. Mitch removed myriad drywall screws from our walls (that's how they hung pictures) and I washed woodwork, scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom. We were having fun and living in the moment. And we heard music coming from somewhere.
We listened to some "practice" tunes, and then some real tunes a while later. Finally, after we sucked down some pizza, we hitched up the dogs and took a walk toward the music. Turns out, two blocks away from us, at the band shelter down at the lake, a twenty-five piece orchestra was playing swing music. Spectators enjoyed the tunes on the lawn and in their cars, honking their applause after each piece. Mitch and I did a little clapping and singing, and people came by to "ooh and aah" over our pups.
What a serendipitous little moment for us, unplanned and delightful. Just like the next few years are going to be for us.
We put all our poop in a little bag on Sunday morning and I drove it up to the dumpster in a retail area a few streets away. I learned that 24 mph is the magic speed if you don't want the bag to fly out of your hand and land on the windshield of the car behind you. This is a good-to-know tidbit I thought I'd share.
Life gives us music and life deals us poop, literally and metaphorically. It's all conquerable if you don't let it overwhelm you. I'm up for it, I think.