Thumbs up! Shumbs up!...the landlord is trying to find as much wiggle room as he can to deduct money...argh!!! We got stood up by people who were going to buy our car...double arrrgh!!! Last minute, badly ditched. An old "friend" tried to make the most of it and offered to buy it for pittance plus had an attitude as if he was doing us a huge favor. Why? Why is so hard for some people to resist the urge to take advantage of others.
Last minute stresses are inevitable, but there are many many things to be thankful for. We have had a steady stream of friends helping us. We had an impromptu party last night when some friends arrived and helped us late into the night, they cooked using all we had in the fridge and ribbed us about all our "possessions"( mostly my collection of assorted glass bottles I use to store everything from lentils to paper clips.) It was an evening spent chatting, laughing, singing, debating and of course packing.
Thats what I want to remember from this experience and not the unpleasant stressful hours.

It is almost the middle of the month and this isn't your average sized month anyways...so the big d-day (departure day) is fast approaching. Some of the major milestones achieved in the last few days- decision about retirement accounts etc (the boring laborious stuff), decision to book a container that will carry across the seven seas everything we have- ah priceless! We feel there should be at least some continuity to this whole thing. Small reminders of what we built for ourselves here.
The landlord came by today and gave two thumbs up to the house. He said in his adorable "Gherman Aaacent" that we have "kepht da place soo kleen". Goody! my last two days of chlorine obsession seems to have worked. My better(?) and usually a little less cluttered half believes I went over-board but what the heck!

The landlord said that he hopes and wishes his doctor son would move back to CA from Texas where he lives now. Different country ditto parents.
Several more steps to go...shall report.

Stage fright=Return to India

The feeling is not very different from the one I remember from my time as a stage actor many eons ago. Now as a filmmaker, this is how I imagine it:

Pulled by an invisible string I walk down a dimly lit corridor. The bright green room with its warm comforting smells of fabric and make-up is now behind me. The cement floor I walk on is cold and the walls around me reflective, throwing a thousand different versions of me back at me. I walk with a my heart pounding, my palms sweaty with a feeling that is an unequal and ever-changing cocktail of fear, excitement and anticipation. I know what lies ahead, beyond. I have been there before and yet there is this strong urge to stop, to rest a bit, to lay my face against the cool cement wall, to stall. I can hear voices from outside, muffled, excited, questioning. Soon, very soon, I will be in the wings, waiting for my turn, trying to get a glimpse of them, trying to make out familiar comforting faces in the dark. I will wait. counting. Thousand and One. Thousand and two. Thousand and three. Enter.