The pending move and the effect it will have on Missy and Grady got me thinking about the other times I've moved with my dogs.
Emme made the most moves with me: into my apartment in Stockton, when I had to leave the farm, with the corgis, because I wasn't leaving without them; from that apartment to the house I bought in Stockton; to Prospect Park West in Park Slope, Brooklyn; to Charles Street in the West Village; and to Jane Street, with Tony, in the West Village. Five times!
We got both Missy and Grady while we were living on Jane Street, so this will be only the second move for those monkeys.
Rudy moved with me twice, to the West Village apartments.
And Cody moved three times: the first three moves listed for Emme.
I've also been thinking about the effect this move will have on me. Jesus, I've gone through a ton of changes in the past not-even-2 years: moving out of the city, losing the job I'd had for like forever, getting married, starting a business. And I've become exponentially more aware of the passage of time of late: hearing and vision loss (see the second footnote), inching up on 50 (my 2 1/2-years-older sister turns 50 later this month), seeing my Granny decline in health and mental acuity, my Dad getting closer to 80 than he is to 70.
But even with all of those changes—and the stresses they've entailed—I truly feel like it's time for one more. I've been getting really excited looking at apartment listings in Wilton Manors with Tony. And especially after the last blast of winter1 we had earlier this week, the Sunshine State is looking awfully nice.
I'm eager to get back to a situation where I'm working steadily again for one employer. Or maybe with multiple freelance clients in a situation that would better enable me to restart Huge Hound in Broward County. I'm craving some semblance of stability again, only in a new location.
Tomorrow's forecast high and low for Fort Lauderdale are 73 and 66.
1We got maybe 5 or 6 inches here. Hard to tell with drifting. It was a very icy snow, and at times it sounded like—and probably actually was—sleet. Still, it was a lot less precipitation overall than predicted. It turns out, the National Weather Service knew a new forecast was in order but didn't issue one—so people in New York City and the surrounding area would continue to view the storm as a dangerous event. How about the NWS reports what's coming to the best of its abilities, so everyone—including those northwest of the city, who, contrary to the suboptimal forecast, got buried in snow—could plan for just that? And how about the NWS not give us even more reason to doubt its statements in the future?