Moving with a flat tyre

Yesterday afternoon was my first day of packing, as the day of moving draws closer and closer, and in a matter of hours I did fill 9 boxes of books and papers, and I'm probably not even half way through.

Now, besides being half choked by the dust, I had a pretty bitter sweet feeling assaulting me as, moving papers that had laid untouched for years, I ended up, like an archaeologist digging deeper to reach the humankind's past, to find my own. And in fact, in almost a perfect order, I laid my eyes on presents, postcards and mails of people who have been part of my life, sometimes an important part of my life, and who have, save a couple of happy exceptions, disappeared totally.

I found out a Kelvin and Hobbes book presented to me by my german ex, Christina, when I started working with the accompanying card with the obvious sweet words and, very contrasting, I found a notebook of my Ukrainan/American ex with some kind of chronology of our first three weeks.

After that a kind of children book, and yet wonderful in its own way, about dragons, a present of the never met son of a never met, but not less important because of that, friend from New York, Joanne, whihc gave me quite a headache to place in a box properly due its very peculiar size and front cover. I'm pretty happy my new bookcase has adjustable shelves, unlike th eold one, so I will finally be able to have it standing properly.

Then I found a very pretty watercolor of my seaside house made by Bea (the only on who is still, and I must say I'm very glad of it, part of my life) on a sunny spring day of almost precisely 4 years ago, which I had stored so well in order to preserve it that, as it often happens, I couldn't find it anymore. Then I found a little mirror in a wooden frame representing a smiling moon, reminding me of a very different me in Belgrade, 6 years ago, and of two girls by the same name, Jelena, but so very different.

And then, a delicate, so delicate that i must have glued together a dozen times already, Sagittarius made of violet glass in Venice, almost 20 years ago, which I thought broken and lost and that rather, I have no idea how, had ended up behind a row of books and managed not to b crushed and reduced to sparkling splinters.

Now, if all those findings ere made while packing the books, I wonder what shall I face today that I start packing the more personal things.

In the meanwhile, this is occupying all my time, so much that I almost forgot how the gym looks like and I even had to call off a meeting about the VCN Rome website, which I would very much lay down, at least a first version, moderators allowing it, by the end of june.

Today the day started happily with a flat tyre, produced by a nail (much alike teh one in the picture, and removed in the very same way) that, by the look, must have been waiting for the chance of getting stuck in my scooter for at least 50 years. Now, what kind of evil spirit must posses a nail for it to wait decades in the dirt, under the rain, the sun, with cold and warm, resisting the natural corrosion and the call of nature that would had requested it to turn to rust, and JUST for producing a hole in my tyre?