Two Moving Experiences

Don't worry; I'm not going anywhere. (I don't think.)

Last Wednesday, Skippy took me to a building the school recently acquired (it had been a sewing machine repair shop) next to an old service station we use for storage. He asked me the possibility of that area being used as my office and shop. We wandered around, pitching ideas back and forth. Overall, there were only a few negatives overwhelmed by many neutrals and positives.

I'm not so stupid that I couldn't read between the lines and see that I'd be moving my operation. Still, I didn't need Froggy zooming around the next day, making oblique comments in front of my staff (whom I hadn't told, since it was discussed only as a possibility) or downright telling his crew that my crew was moving, before it was decided. (Even as of this typing, it's at 90% probability.)

Froggy went for a double whammy on Thursday, as it turns out. He asked Thing One when she would move from the apartment to the house they had been fixing up for her. (On the surface, it's kind of an odd question, since he pulled his crew from finishing the repairs, so the house isn't ready for her.) She suggested the end of the month. "Can you make it sooner?" he asked. She suggested next weekend (this weekend, as of the date I'm blogging). "Can you move this weekend?" he continued. (No, he doesn't have Skippy's tact at suggesting someone move.)

So, Thing One, Elmer Fudd, and I spent Sunday afternoon moving all her clobber (you wouldn't think she'd have all that much, considering she had moved here just in December and all her furniture is still in New Mexico). My new neighbor moved in yesterday. (I haven't met her yet; last night was bowling night.)

I'd like to move Froggy to the moon.