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Saturday, October 25, 2003

We got Eric moved into his new place today, sort of. He ran out of boxes and couldn't pack everything. He has until Friday (the end of the month) to be out of the old apartment, so he'll have to make time in his busy schedule for a few more trips. I loaded up the Saturn, and John and Suzanne had the big trailer, and somehow we managed to get the most important stuff transported from north Santa Rosa to south Rohnert Park.

He wanted to start at eight this morning, and I got there on time, full of pep and ready to rumble. That didn't last long, but I did my best to carry boxes up and down the stairs. As time went on, I took smaller boxes and more time between trips. At one point I got a shooting pain in my left hip, and by the end my legs were wobbly. I have no complaints, though (even if it sounds as if I do).

It wasn't because I was out of shape that I had to slow down. It was because I'm not quite as young as I used to be (and I was never that young in the first place). I've never had the strongest back, but I've always tried to do as much as I could, and then a little more. I was satisfied with my effort today, and I think Eric was, too. I guess he had to be.

But oh, afterward. We went to lunch, and then I came home and collapsed. I wish I could have offered to help Eric a little more, but I was spent. Sore, tired and pretty much out of gas. I took a nap and a shower, in that order, and felt a little better, but I didn't move around much for the rest of the day, and on into the night (which, by the way, has an extra hour in it).

He has a lot of unpacking and arranging to do, and more moving besides. But his new place is like a home. In fact, that's exactly what it is, two rooms and a bathroom in a house that he shares with the owner, another single guy. Plus, he has all the kitchen amenities he needs in the garage, just outside his entry door. Good neighborhood, good location, reasonable rent. I think he's set for a while.

I hope so, anyway. But if he moves again, I'll be there. I'll be even less help than I was this time, but I'll be there.

25 October 2003

John and Eric carried the big stuff. I carried things like pillows.

And to think I was so sure the hardest part of the day would be getting up early on a Saturday morning! How wrong I was. I woke up before the alarm and was out the door on time. Once I'm up, I'm okay for a while, even on my worst days. I do tend to wind down early on days like this, though. I got some rest this afternoon, so tomorrow I shouldn't be tired. Just sore.

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As I predicted, the Marlins are the world champions of baseball, and I defy anybody to contradict me (except for the part about my predicting it, because I really hedged on that). A 23-year-old pitching ace named Josh Beckett made the mighty, legendary Yankees look as if they were waving their bats at nothing. A performance like his tonight at Yankee Stadium is the kind of thing that makes new legends. It was a treat to watch it happen. (And now the World Series is over and the next game will be some time in March, so I'll have to fill this box with something else until then.)

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One year ago: Love-Hate
"I strongly dislike being forced by people I can't stand to do things that I find distasteful and repugnant. But I love everything and everybody else. I love little baby ducks, old pickup trucks, slow-movin' trains and rain."

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