It was time to leave our beloved Airbnb home in the Ardennes.  I said goodbye to the high stone walls and rough beams, and to the dining room table – a place of fine conversations.

I knew it wouldn’t take me long to pack up.  We’d only stayed two nights.  In my room and in the bathroom, I checked the surfaces for stray Bruce objects.  I made sure my phone cord was disconnected from the outlet.  My slippers were no longer lolling around on the floor.  My bedsheets didn’t have treasures hidden within.  All fit perfectly in my backpack and suitcase.

You’re so organized, Bruce!

And we were off … two hours plus on the highway back to Gent, as Pascal educated me about the realities of driving in Belgium.

My apartment!  Hello, home.  Happiness in the going and in the returning.

Unpacking should be a breeze.  Actually a little too much of a breeze.

Where is my reddish brown sweater?

Where is my pink “Be Kind” t-shirt?

How about my blue gym shorts?

And a pair of my long red compression stockings?

Not here!

The thoroughness of my packing was a fantasy.  I hadn’t checked the drawers where I’d placed this stuff.

Oh, Bruce

Wherefore art thy mind?

And so the recent expansion of my forgetfulness continues.  Getting old, I suppose.  A little too loose in the head.

***

Now here’s the day after … and I’m smiling about my foibles, about not being alert in the packing yesterday.  So cool!

I love my objects, especially the pink t-shirt, but letting them go feels easy.  Our Airbnb hostess may mail them back to me.  (I’ll pay whatever you want!)  Or perhaps not.  Either way, all is well.

I’m so easy in the living today

May tomorrow be the same