uprooted

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uprooted

I spent what felt like a long time untangling jasmine vines today. They’ve been growing and twining up the patio for several years, longer than I’ve lived here, but we want to bring them along. I tried to be gentle, but almost immediately my hands were sticky with their sap. The newest growth was supple and easy to bend, but without warning, the vine would stop bending and start cracking, its old growth¬†dense and brittle. At some point in the past, it bent at an awkward angle to catch the trellis or a neighboring vine and then got really comfortable in that spot. So comfortable that it could no longer imagine bending the opposite way.

I’m really glad we’re moving. Have moved? It is still in process, but it feels right. But the dogs – the dogs are stressed. I didn’t appreciate how stressed until we came home this morning to a new neighbor trying to return them. We thought we’d left them safely in the backyard. The back gate was still latched – mystery of mysteries – but the neighbor saw them hanging out in the middle of the street and was escorting them up the stairs. He’d already returned them once, and put a brick in front of the little front gate, but Indigo had easily removed that obstacle. Apparently they like to wait in the middle of the street for us to return. It is a residential street, but still quite busy and I am not okay with coming home to a dead dog. So today we traveled as a pack. Everywhere we went, the dogs went too.

The jasmine, freed from its moorings, is still waiting to be brought to its new home. I’m hoping when the vines hook on to the new railing, and the dogs stop following me from room to room, maybe I won’t feel so uprooted.

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