A Lesson in Problem Solving, One Box at a Time

Paralysis. We are overcome with paralysis.

Or maybe it is not paralysis, but a twitching of the muscles. A tic, perhaps.

We are moving, emptying this larger house--disposing of old treasures and newer whims--stuffing everything into a trailer for destination, and re-imagining our lives: a different house, a different although familiar city, a life after income. It is no trivial exercise. It is the process that seems trivial, and impossible.

"What shall I do now?", Mari asks. "Shall I gather all our heavy winter clothing, for destination at the ReUse Center? Or is that the landfill? I mean, 'the Goodwill'."

"Yes," I reply, "Do that."

Mari watches Nathaniel, new grandson in Tucson, on her phone. I can hear him cry. I sit down at the computer. We are attacking the problem as best we can. The process will work.

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