As I've said before, one of the factors that has facilitated this blog over the years is that I lead a boring life. I drive to work. I drive home. I drive Route 7 to the Zen Center and return. I am seeing and experiencing the same plots of land day after day, week after week, year after year.
For the past dozen years, Tuttle Printing has worked out of two buildings, and for 5-6 times a day I have walked between them. The walks over to the production facility have been the most fertile ground I've had for material for this blog. I don't know how many posts have started, "walking over to production." There are blossoms on the crabapple tree in the spring, snow on the picnic table & icicles on the pine trees in the winter, dandylions in the spring, burning bush in the fall along with many, many other opportunities for observations.
But now Tuttle is in the final stages of consolidating into one building. I still walk over to the other building, but it's just once or twice a day. I let some of the workers of the new occupants in, and try to make sure that it's locked up at the end of the day. By the first of December I won't have any reason to go over there at all.
I'm going to miss those walks. They have been a small, but not so small part of my life for many years.
For the past dozen years, Tuttle Printing has worked out of two buildings, and for 5-6 times a day I have walked between them. The walks over to the production facility have been the most fertile ground I've had for material for this blog. I don't know how many posts have started, "walking over to production." There are blossoms on the crabapple tree in the spring, snow on the picnic table & icicles on the pine trees in the winter, dandylions in the spring, burning bush in the fall along with many, many other opportunities for observations.
But now Tuttle is in the final stages of consolidating into one building. I still walk over to the other building, but it's just once or twice a day. I let some of the workers of the new occupants in, and try to make sure that it's locked up at the end of the day. By the first of December I won't have any reason to go over there at all.
I'm going to miss those walks. They have been a small, but not so small part of my life for many years.
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