Yesterday several people helped Kij Johnson load two pods to move her belongings to North Carolina. This involved carrying things down three flights of stairs, lugging them across a parking lot, and arranging them in a pod under the capable direction of Shelly Rae Clift. Here are Elizabeth Bourne, me, Mark Bourne, and Jack Skillingstead engaged in this operation:
According to the last census, forty million Americans move each year -- roughly one in seven. This includes local moves, most of which seem to occur in and out of my apartment building. With all this shifting of population, you'd think someone would buy my house in Rochester, New York. No such luck. Six months after I put it on the market, it still sits a-begging.
In the evening, Jack and I had dinner with Eileen Gunn, John Berry, and Gardner Dozois before Gardner flew back to Philadelphia. Gardner had some interesting suggestions on how to sell my house. These included (1) commit a murder there to attract people who want to live in a house with a ghost, and (2) establish it as the Nancy Kress Museum. Since the first of these ideas is not practical and the second laughable, we drove Gardner to SeaTac and put him on a plane east.