Gathering Moss
When I was a kid, my family moved houses exactly once. I was 4, and I only remember the important bits: wrapping my plastic doll dishes in newspaper just like my grandmother wrapped the dishes in the kitchen and dancing like a crazy 4-year old around the For Sale sign in the front yard. I “moved” again, for the first time, when I went off to college. From then on, I moved a lot, assuming you count every time in and out of a dorm room a “move”. Once a year, sometimes twice. Halfway out of student housing post graduation, …