Ken and I spent part of Saturday outfitting ourselves with clothing and gear for our new lives in the mountains. Sorels, warm socks of many varieties, compasses, warm winter wear of all kinds--all at a discount. I have new Sorels especially made for snowshoes, though they'll be good for cold weather hiking as well. And mud boots, we really need those. I think the brand we selected are called Mud Ducks. If they only made a mud skirt for Sophie's undercarriage! That's what I hate the most about muddy weather. How do you keep dog tummies free of mud?

I've been feeling particularly unsociable. I have nothing much to say because all I've been doing is packing and dealing with moving issues. In the evenings, I manage to stay awake long enough to watch one episode of something on TV. That's it.

I've just got to get through this week and really move mountains to get more stuff into boxes or packed away in the file cabinet or desks. Next Monday the 5th, as long as there's not a snowstorm, I'll be making my way north.

Transitions in relationships, too. One friend I treasure has made herself scarce. I left a phone message, she e-mailed me rather than calling me back, and responded to my question as to when she might be available for lunch. She added that she wasn't sure if she could get together because her writing might be at a difficult spot at the times I'm available to meet her. Sigh. I really was hoping against hope that we could stay friends, that we could keep a connection going after we move. She was happy for us when I told her initially, happy that we're making a move we want, but she admitted feeling sad and personally disappointed that things would change. I'm sad, too, but I really wanted to work to maintain a connection that would reach out over the miles between us. That's what I want, but that may not be what she wants to invest in.

Another dear, dear friend and colleague is himself moving away, to California, in about six months or so. He's still hoping there's a way out, because he's a do-or-die Bostonian, and he still can't believe I'm leaving because he was positive I was one, too. But, to tell the truth, it was very hard to imagine being here without him, and although it may have been a contributing factor leading me to pursue this move, it certainly was only one of many. Just the same, I'll miss him sorely. We were supposed to get together December 1st or 2nd, in between his research trip to London and his lecture tour for one final meal in the city, but his last e-mail neglected to mention anything about it.

So, all in all, I'm feeling slightly deprived in the friendship department. It's always hard to believe, before a move to a new place, that one will meet new friends who will nourish and satisfy. I understand, though, that there are quite a number of writers and artists in the Adirondacks, and that, one way or another, I'll meet them, and befriend a few. Who knows?