We are getting close.
The carpets have been professionally cleaned, the garage is packed and most of the rooms are cleaned.
So far, we've had the power go out, had an air mattress pop, leaving us sleeping on the floor and a near miss, just now, with a dog about to vomit on the clean carpet.
We have a plan of action.
Today, we finish everything up. Tomorrow, we leave at four in the morning. We try and make it down there in one go, and get a hotel somewhere in northern Columbus, where the crime rate is not so bad and the cost of rooms are high.
I will camp out in the truck by day, keeping an eye on the car trailer, while Keith goes and looks for a house.
I'm hanging in there. We spent last night at Keith's Dad's house, so we could remember what a mattress felt like (bliss) and do laundry (very necessary) and to say goodbye. Instead of going to bed early, I stayed up rereading section three of my story and being entranced by it. It makes me nervous, the fact that I like my own story so much. But I have to, if I didn't love it, how would I be able to put this much effort into writing it? It's god damned hard work.
I would post bits of it, but it's getting increasingly mushy, as I get close to the end, and tighten the corkscrew on my characters. They tend to lean on one another more and more, as a consequence, and to go hide, at any opportunity, in their own world. And I'm shy about posting the mushy parts on my blog; my characters are such private people, in their own world.
I must go and finish cleaning the bathroom. The next time I post, it should be from Georgia.
