We are packing up my things for the big move. I am living in, on, under, around, above, but, by, and all the rest of the prepositions, boxes. I failed to get my color coding scheme working, and we have way more books than I really understood we have. I mean, 2,034 on the Library App, is impressive, but having enough book boxes to make several castles is inconceivable.
Some things we didn't want packed, in particular our canned goods, but I forgot to specify that. I found the canned goods shelf empty, and didn't even look for the box because I thought it was in the boxnado. Several hours later, there it was, all by it's lonesome, I was going to donate the canned good after all.
Except St. Mary's was locked. I don't have the energy to do things twice. Due to the Coast Guard Festival, traffic was horrendous and I opted to give up on donating at St. Pat's. We pulled into an antiques store and I suddenly remembered Peter's antique high chair. It's been classing up the attic for eight years or so, and Goodwill doesn't take antique baby anything. I walked into the store and a gentleman offered me 15 dollars sight unseen. I turned to leave, but the opportunity to get two things done at once was too close not to try. I got him to agree to take my canned goods to St. Mary's on the following day. Win, win.
I've been impressed with how many things are falling into slots bit by bit--how two different errands can have one ending. I don't know if I'm just too old to fight God and worry, or if I'm finally getting smarter about listening and trusting. All I know is that my heart flubs along steady while problem after problem is put straight. It's a great time to practice trust.
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