Back in Wyoming to the usual March medley of mud, melting ice, new dustings of snow. All is chaos in the little cabin--too full of boxes and unsorted belongings, thronged with needy felines.
I'm perched in a corner of the computer lab at the local library, with J's laptop on my lap--which contrarily is not a comfortable way to write.
We have some serious business to attend to before leaving in a week. There is also [groan] the storage shed and the old barn to sort.
I'll be coming into the library as I have time--I daresay I could spread myself out on a table in the main area and be a bit more comfortable to type and read.
It's getting dark and I'm driving the red truck, so want to get back promptly to the cabin. Driving the truck is not an issue, but the big water tank is on the back and I'm one of those people who prefer looking behind me to judge a back-up space rather than relying on the side mirrors.
So, back through the mud to the place that is no longer home.
The new owners have painted my kitchen terra cotta and the wainscoating is no longer barn red, but greem. The bathroom which J. labored to finish and paint is now a brilliant shade of pink. We know this because he went in yesterday to change a door lock and a switch plate.
Oh well, we shall be soon putting our own stamp on the Kentucky cottage. Its just the getting there that seems a hurdle!