Four score and 664 hours ago - otherwise known as a month - Rooki Kahoo and I drove forth from Asheville, North Carolina, 2300 miles, to Santa Monica, CA. The trip to California included an extra night to visit with Swami-ji in Santa Fe. We spent 11 days in Santa Monica slogging through the grime of a hangar, going through decades of stuff, dumpstering, packing, wrapping, moving. Then we drove back to Asheville, arriving 11 days ago. Back and forth across the continent with the eleven days of labor in-between, in a total of less than three weeks. Since our arrival back in Asheville, we've been looking non-stop for a place to live. Not really non-stop, because the Kahoo gets a hike every day, but that's pretty damn non-stop, if you ask me.
It looks like we found a place. We should be signing a lease in the morning. It's a little house, worse for the wear and tear of criminally insane vacating tenants who, among other things, broke all the windows, destroyed the furnace, broke everything in the bathroom, left several truckloads of refuse in their wake and made the case for security deposits equal to four years rent, but it has been largely patched up, it seems to be quiet and it has a securely fenced-in yard. It is also on a street where taking Roo for actual walks will be possible, because it isn't steep.
I am so out of steam. I think Rooki is, too. She absolutely refuses to go out at night any more. It has just become too much for her to brave the motel stairwells, to pass the guys smoking cigarettes outside their rooms. She has tired of house hunting, has gone from being excited to go inside them all to wanting to wait in the car.
We'll see what happens. One last move, now, from storage into the house.