The tasks of pre-departure for Vienna are compressing.... Perhaps like any event of significance in my life, the closer the actual start becomes on the calendar, the faster the time seems to go until it is here. Although we have our flight reserved, we do not have a pack-out date for the move or for shipping the Prius. The cats, Earl and Walter, have their health certificates, but those must be certified within 10 days of departure by the vet--for the second time--and the USDA office in Richmond...far more trouble than shipping the car. They are still dream-dozing of pursuing the squirrel who each morning spirals up the trunk of the red plum opposite their favorite window. I wonder what their dreams will be of once they have spent a trans-Atlantic flight in sherpa bags stuffed under the seats in front of us. What are the dreams of a person in a straight jacket? What are the dreams of a clam?
I am counting now how many times I am likely to see my kids and grandkids before July 22. I wonder if there is a mental sherpa bag for me to stuff with thoughts of losses that this change will bring; I will surely be taking one such to Dulles with me, even as I am eager for our adventure to start.
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