
Apologies for my lack of posting of late. For some reason I had the idea to move all of my earthly belongings out of a three bedroom house and into my parents basement 50 miles away. One car load at a time.
I’m not very smart.
This process fell somewhere on the fun scale between getting punched repeatedly in the stomach and surgically removing one’s own eye.
But today as I completed what felt like the millionth load, I realized that the very last things I carried out to my car to take away from my home were my Love Mugs. And that felt right.
Because I loved two sweet dogs every day in that home. And because I loved many people who visited that home. Houses become homes when love is in them. And this lovely little house was home from the moment I walked in with a dachshund at my feet and a friend helping carry boxes to the moment this afternoon when I closed the door behind me and carried out my mugs.
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