Roxanne Tellier – Musings On Movings and Marijuana for Multinationals

Today is the 12^th of December, and that means that Shawn and I are exactly one month away from the Big Move, from Toronto, to Windsor, Ontario.  The drive is a mere 230 in earth miles, but, in some integral ways, it’s also the equivalent of moving from the Moon to the Sun.

Roxanne Tellier – Move It On Over

I’ll just put it out there .. I hate moving. I like looking at other houses that are staged to sell, and imagining what it would be like to live there. I like watching DIY experts slap $40 worth of paint onto walls, transform a wood pallet into a piece of luxurious furniture, and change a blah room into a stunning piece of art. In the past, I myself have spent major dollars and worked insanely long hours, hoping to make a sow’s ear into a silk purse. DIY porn. It’s a thing.

Roxanne Tellier – The move that would not die …

I’ve been pretty much off the ‘net and the grid for the better part of a month. Call it ‘interesting times,’ but damn, I’ve been keeping busy!

When we sold the house last fall and moved into a suite of rooms, it was with the fervent hope that we could stay put for a while. But it was not to be … a girl needs her kitchen and her ‘things’ around her, and my poor cats were traumatized by the presence of another cat in the residence. it was all too much.

Roxanne Tellier – With No Direction Home

When we first sold our house, worrying about finding a space that would be safe, affordable, and have amenities nearby didn’t seem like such a big deal. Really, we reasoned, how hard could it be?  I, for one, thought that our biggest problem would be agreeing on location.

Mrs. Parker and the 9th Circle of Hell

Hey Bob.

Greetings from one of Dante’s Circles of Hell …

Cocytus, if I’m not mistaken, where Satan himself resides, his leathery wings flapping eternally, producing chilling winds that freeze all to ice. And I hate cold.

Typing this by hunt and peck on my tablet, with much cursing. No ability to cut and paste, or to do much of anything, beyond elementary response.

JAIMIE VERNON – MY GLACIER WAS GONE

There is an old adage that says that you can’t go home again. It has a double meaning – not only can’t you relive the past but in many cases the places where the events in your past actually happened are no longer there.