Who, what, when, where, why, how?

I learned in high school that a good story or report answers the five Ws (and one H). Let's see if I can apply that lesson to this moving-to-California tale.

"Who" is likely the easiest: me and Ransom, Zack and Louie. For those with whom I haven't been in touch recently, Zack, in the first picture, is our 90 pound, 7 year-old Lab mix who we rescued from South Carolina by way of the New Rochelle Animal Shelter. Louie was abandoned at the kennel we use when both his owners took ill and could no longer provide for him. He's four years old now and comes in at 35 pounds. Ransom and I are a bit older and our weight does not need to be discussed.

"What" I already answered yesterday. We have sold our Connecticut house of 25 years and are moving to Palm Springs, CA. We have a rental lined up that we can use until Nov. 1; with any luck that will be plenty of time to find and buy a new home. We're looking for a one story condo: less knee pain and fewer fix-it issues.

"When" would be now. We've had two months to clean out the house and, let me tell you, it's been incredibly stressful. Everyone I know agrees: we all have too much stuff. And what living here all these years has taught me is that the more space we have the more stuff we will accumulate to fill that space. "Nature abhors a vacuum," remember? The two months is almost up and we will be ready. Again, closing is on July 30.

"Where"? Woodbridge, CT, to Palm Springs, CA: 2,778 miles.

"Why"? Ok, this is a big one. To start with, we've both come to hate winter. Ransom got there first — after all, he's from the deep South (Alabama) — but I followed along pretty quickly. Once your bones are too brittle to allow skiing and once it gets too hard to enjoy long walks in the woods, trudging through the snow, well, winter loses a lot of its charm. Another thing that's lost charm is the two flights of stairs I navigate every day, several times a day. After three surgeries my right knee makes itself felt painfully and constantly.

Then there's this house itself. We have truly loved it and think it's a great house but, truth be told, houses really are money pits and time-eaters and we're just not good at being homeowners. We don't do the regular maintenance we should and things break or go wrong and, well, we're tired of it. And this particular house is too damn big: 2700 square feet for just the two of us? Way too big!

Another reason to move is to be closer to Ransom's other job: Music Director of the Redlands (CA) Symphony. He's been flying out there six or seven times a year — until the pandemic at least — and we decided he could just as easily live out there and fly to Yale as need be. (Yes, he's keeping that job). I'm retired and so there's no work for me to be close to. I will admit I might miss the proximity of New York and all the opera, theatre and concerts I've gone to, but when will I feel comfortable doing that again? It may well be that my hundred events a year schedule is a thing of the past, killed by the Corona virus.

And finally, we really like Palm Springs. Ransom's been there many times, me only twice, but both of us love the vibe, love the mid-century aesthetic, enjoy the hipness and appreciate the casual attitude.

That leaves "How?" On August 2 I'll get behind the wheel of my Subaru Impreza, with Zack and Louie on their favorite dog beds in the back, and head west. With me will be either David or Cameron, Ransom's two students. In the Lexus will be Ransom and whoever's not with me, and all our stuff: suitcases, computers, coffee maker and everything else we'll need for the next however many weeks. Our furniture — and over 100 boxes of sheet music! — will have left Woodbridge on July 28, heading into storage until we're ready for it. Note: most of that music is being donated to the University of Redlands, but there's probably another 100 or so boxes of "stuff." We are no doubt taking too much; what will be jettisoned will be decided by the size of the condo. Trust me, it will NOT be 2700 square feet!

So that's the story, or at least the front end of the story. There's a back story to get into, maybe tomorrow. I'll likely title that part of the tale Anxiety is a Sleep Killer.