Time to Make the Donuts

It’s amazing just how much shit one can amass in less than two years. Coming in with just a mattress, a closetful of clothes and few items I had valued enough to stow away during my last venture into minimalism, I’m going out with masses of trash bags and boxes filled with stuff I’ve deemed junk.

Stay gold, Ponyboy

At first I found the whole process difficult this go, as I rummaged through my belongings, finding myself much more attached to things I had collected in less than 24 months. Much of what I donated the last go was leftover from my 21-year marriage, representing a different me than the woman I have emerged into, and the last two years saw me accumulating things that truly said – maybe even shouted, Kate


Still. It’s all just stuff. And the more I dove into ridding myself of it all, the easier it became. I’m just ready to be done, and hit the road, and my attachments are seeming less and less necessary to me.


And to make the move even easier, turns out Trixie is absolutely comfortable in chaos. The more disorganized my place became as boxes were filled and staged to get out the door, the more excitable she was. It was like an obstacle course for her, with lots of obstructions strewn about her usual route, and she happily bounced about as I worked.

Yeah, this is the exit of a kid’s bouncy house… ummmmm….

So here we go, on our adventure. Done with one place and staying with friends at another, where we/she must acclimate to two dogs and a cat before heading out on the road in a week. This, of course, is what Trixie needs while we’re out there – to find comfort and hopefully peace with other animals – and humans. The next seven or so days will be fun – and hopefully, filled with less piss than I’ve dealt with in the last few as poor Trix first met the dogs in a frenzy. One day at a time and all that. And, as anyone who knows me well knows, I ain’t just talking about the kitty.


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