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One morning a few days before graduation from college, I dreamed I was a fledgling black bird, and I was running around chasing my parents (who were birds, too) trying to get food from them. I woke at that moment, but that picture has remained with me all these years.

Tomorrow I will be going with my son to help him look for temporary, economy housing in a city that is too far to commute to easily. He is starting his first post-college job.

The ship is venturing out of the harbor. And taking all sorts of flotsam and jetsam with him. Valuable (to him) clutter is going out to the car. This works better than my annual spring purge of unused stuff. (I always give up before my house is completely purged.)

“Mom, you don’t use this little crock pot, do you? How about this lamp? Here are some pans you never use.” “Nobody is using that printer – I could take that?”

His dad says, “Don’t take all the socks!” I say, “Make sure you take some towels and hand towels. Look in the cupboard and take some food.”

This is an entirely different from sending my daughter to college a few years ago. She wanted cute new stuff for her dorm room to set up a bedroom in a new place. She didn’t mind spending money (our money) to do so. My son is setting up house, and he wants to spend as little as possible. He is happy to take some of the items I no longer use.

College involves wings with tethers. Setting up house in another city is taking the training wheels off.

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