July 1st, 9:15 a.m. and already hot. Welcome to the reboot. I really cannot write too much at this time as my hands and fingers are so sore from moving that I am somewhat uncoordinated. And although most of the stuff is out of the apartment at 8th Avenue, there are the-little-things-that-fall-through-the-cracks and cleaning.
Cooder, Emmylou, and I are holed up with John, Melinda, and Tupelo until I finish cleaning the apartment. Then Cooder and I move up to Brewster and continue the packing, unpacking, moving, and most terrible (in the superlative sense) task of figuring out what the fuck. That is a 360-degree-red-rubber-ball-life-encompassing WTF.
So, yeah, I am still around. Hopefully, my brain and my thoughtfulness will return. My mind spins with the many things to do, regrets, and possibilities of ... well, the future seems so distant and I am meaning the next week or two. For now, I will find some clothes, get some more coffee, and take a pass at cleaning. It is so hot, I will have to come up here to the air conditioning for breaks.