Climbing out of a well

Something useful to know

Pre- and post-purge in the move preparation.

I know all the advice about being consistent about your writing schedule on Substack, and about finding your groove so people can become fans, or at least know what to expect.

I have read the “business model” posts about growing your substack. Be regular. Choose your purpose and market, market, market.

That’s fine if your life runs smoothly.

In February we fell into a well. Well, not a real well. A metaphorical well. But it had all the properties of a well. We dropped out of sight. No one knew where we were. I couldn’t communicate. I was too busy climbing out of the well. We weren’t injured (I take that back, Pat got rear-ended). I had no access to a computer, and no energy to use one.

The well appeared on the road we were traveling when we decided to sell our house. That decision was made in February. We spent two weeks looking for apartments, two weeks moving mountains of books furniture, pictures, and anything else personal. Then the stager came, and in an afternoon she and our real estate agents moved another mountain. They changed our house into an upscale hotel. We listed on March 19, and received an acceptable offer within four days.

I think people must like hotels.

The goal was to close by April 15. So the race against time continued. Selling or giving away as much stuff as possible was the name of the game. We were moving into an apartment only a little more than half the size of the house we were leaving. Very little of the furniture fit where we were going anyway.

We moved on April 8th through 10th. The movers did a great job, but I am sure they were tired of our confused frazzled state by the time we were done. Oh, that goes to storage. First bedroom. Storage. Kitchen. Storage…

Problems of all kinds manifested themselves. Our car was totalled in a rear-ender. My email stopped working (still trying to solve that one). We needed storage for everything and ways to slim down, so donation runs happened regularly, and if you stood still long enough, we tried to get you to take something away. Like the couch? Sure, take it. The china? Of course. Blankets and sheets? Clothes? Yep. Towels? We have those too. Even the rug went away. We did keep the dog.

I have poked my head over the edge of the well now, and resumed communication with the world. I have missed all of you. My numbers are down but I remain hopeful that a return to promised projects may get people interested again.

The lessons? Can you find the silverware before it is time to eat? No, you can’t hook up the modem to a cable line that isn’t there. Working with phone companies is excruciating. Guess which box holds the books for your next class? How can we transport the new sofa when the company we are using can’t tell the difference between Portland and Seattle when scheduling appointments?

But—we have songbirds at our feeder every day and they eat, then fly to our screen door and sing. Our dog Logi loves the new dog park. There is a creek running through the greenbelt behind us and there are blooming trees and plants everywhere. It is quiet most of the time except when SeaTac reroutes the flyway over us (only happened once). Our friends are terrific and I am singing in the choir again.

The useful thing to know about climbing out of a well? Just keep climbing.