My froat

I have a sore froat. That's what the kids used to call it. Hope it's not the gleap that Paul and Jud just had.

We're heading to Denver this weekend to deliver "stuff" to Amy (the name means beloved). She has lived without much stuff for the past 10 months, pretty much since she graduated from college. Most of her stuff has been in our basement since then.

First she lived in Des Moines with the Smiths - her host family for her Democratic Party work job. It was a good situation - living in their lovely home free. But as I now know, it's just not the same as having your own place with your stuff.

Then when she moved to Vail, CO for her Beaver Creek gig, she lived with her Auntie Cindy (my sis) and Uncle Boldy. Again - good situation, low rent but not much of her own stuff. Her Beano's Restaurant gig was done early in April and she's been a nomad since then - living with a friend, and staying with my Aunt Marty and Uncle Bill.

I think it's been a carefree life, most of the time. But by late May she was chomping at the bit to get into her new apartment (old with hardwood floors) on Pearl Street in Denver. She had to wait for a guy to move out of the place so she could move in with Carrie - a new friend.

So it's finally time for her to get stuff. I know she's excited to see us, her fam. Even Jud is coming along. (Alas she won't get any Odie loving - Odie is going to Lila the puppy sitter) But I am sure she's elated to be getting her stuff. To be able to settle into her own place, with her own belongings. We're even taking Grandpa's chair to her. It will be like a hug from him when she sits there. Ahhhh Home!