The new place is way better. For starters, we own it. Plus we had the floors redone and we're not in the basement anymore.
But I'm concerned for Jesus.
Our apartment has the perfect little nook for my Mexican hombre. (We met in Oaxaca amidst this crowd of deities.)But where will he live now? No place in our new flat seems worthy. I have half a mind to leave him here in his wee alcove, but what if he loses more than the two hands that were pulverized in his rocky transport from Mexico to Canada?
And how could I leave his smoky, long-lashed eyes behind? My hands are tied.
Pack your bags, Christo!
You will find a great place for him I am sure - but I do admit I was sad to see you lose that perfect little nook for him. Dang I wasn't one of the generous friends - I was asked to come and clean sawdust - but somehow I missed the carrying boxes idea! Oooooops.
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