There are only two more nights in this house. I still can't believe this is almost over. At the risk of going on and on and on about it I feel as though I need to say a certain farewell.
I know I have said over and over that I can not wait to be done with this house and all the evil it holds within. And this is true. Mostly. Mostly I can not wait to get out of here.
There is one thing that I am already lamenting the loss of. Every time I look at it I feel a sadness that I have to leave it behind. This morning we had a chat. It went a little something like this.
Me: You know, you have served me well over the last 20 months.
Me: You have never let me down, not once and I am so very grateful.
Me: I know you don't really understand what is happening here but I'm sure you've seen me working around you, packing things up, getting things out of the house.
Me: I'm sorry I haven't come by sooner to say my good-bye. I didn't want you to be angry. I was avoiding this because I was afraid things would be awkward between us. I was wrong to make you wait. It's just two more days and then I will be gone forever. Please, try to forget me. Try to move on.........
Me: I feel terrible about it. If I could take you with me I would, please know that. And I will love you 'til the minute I leave this place and replace you, one day. Maybe I should have kept that last part to myself. Anyway, again, I am so sorry I have to leave you here, in this God-forsaken place.
Me: You're awfully quiet. I understand. You're confused because our love was so strong. Enduring. Eternal. And now I am abandoning you. Turning my back without a second thought. It's a tough pill to swallow. I get it. I'll give you some time.
Me: Well.........okay then........
It'll be a sad day when I am no longer able to just press a button and get what I love the most. May 5th is the day. The day I will have to actually start making my own ice.
Flour update: As I was packing up the rest of the kitchen I found two partially used bags of cake/pastry flour and another bag of white flour. I think there may be need of an intervention. Or maybe I shouldn't be allowed to have big cavernous cupboards that swallow whole bags of flour.
Anyone want to come bake cakes with me?