My session with my therapist went much as I expected it would. She reacted to the news that I've decided to leave NYC as though I told her I had decided to go live in a pile of mulch in the park. Alas, she gave no specifics as to why she thought this would be a bad idea, just that native New Yorker alarm when anyone suggests that life is possible beyond the Five Boroughs.

However, I think I've decided that it would be a good idea to sell my place in Fort Lauderdale. Since I bought it, I haven't been able to afford to go down there and enjoy it. The maintenance fees went up this year, and it's making less and less sense. My outstanding mortgage is $54,000. Coincidently, the broker I worked with in finding the place called me today to 'chat' and to 'see how it was going' with me. I have no doubt that she'd be telling me how the market continues to go up. If I were able to sell the place for $95,000, that would give me $41,000 clear. Well, not quite that much since the seller pays the brokers fee and some of the closing costs. But, that would essentially mean that I would never have to work ever again and I could have everything I ever wanted and I'd be happy all of the time.

Wouldn't it?

Anyway, something to consider.

It would be nice to have a healthy bank account again.

I seem to be on the mend from the food poisoning. After my session with my therapist, I stopped in the West Village. It was a beautiful Spring evening, and I felt like wandering around a bit. I risked a fruit salad from Factory Cafe, and after that, actually felt sort of hungry. So, I went to Anglers & Writers and had some chicken, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. So far, so good.

Not sure if I mentioned this or not, but Brother's Wife related how she was talking to the nurse that takes care of my step mother three or four days a week. BW asked her about how much time my step mother has left. The reply was, "I'd say June or July." That said, she seems to be doing 'better' lately, and this is a woman of whom it was said a year and a half ago that she probably wouldn't make it to Christmas.

Speaking of mortality, let's hear from Gerard Manley Hopkins, whose dying words were, "I'm so very happy."

God's Grandeur
By Gerard Manley Hopkins

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs--
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

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