I let it go, along with my 40th birthday Trek bike, purple hula hoop, fishing poles, piles of clothing, books, rolls of wall paper, nail gun supplies, a turntable, wall clock, chairs, this-and-that. That was the first round; there’ll be more rounds to come: this is a project that could take a year to accomplish, akin to Hercules shoveling out the stables. Poor River dog had a busy morning defending his property from the ‘burglars’ as they took his stuff away.

I need less yard, less house, less struggle, less taxes. Maybe I’ll rent a peaceful guest house, live in an art studio or buy that vintage travel trailer I’ve yearned for… or take a trip to Italy if I want. If I had money in the bank or won the lottery, I’d stay put forevermore, for I’ve loved my old friend. I’d paint her a shade of soft-butter, add a metal shingle roof and more heat, a real art studio in the back. She’s been home for so long, making me feel like I had the world in the palm of my hand; and like that tree, holds pieces of me and memories. She just needs someone who can afford to keep things up, and not sweat over repairs and bills continually: she deserves better, to ensure another 100 years. She’s important to this charming little town, a part of the community and history. Life is short; long journeys begin with one step. There’s no big plan involved, only a beginning — a slow one perhaps, but a start. Sometimes you have to let Christmas trees go, even when you want to call them to come back.