There might be a move for us in the horizon (as in, we now live here and we might have to live two minutes from here) and I’ve tried to write about about it but the only words that put my thoughts together are CRAPPING MACKARELS. I haven’t tried talking about it but I suspect there won’t be much difference in the outcome.
The one thing that doesn’t trigger a traumatic response about moving is this one. She will be with us and I’m looking forward to spoiling her rotten.
Spoiling her even more, I should say.