Parting is such sweet sorrow

We bid adieu to the Physicsmobile yesterday. It just seemed kind of silly for Andrew and I to have two cars when both of us don't drive into school and for most other things drive together. My father has agreed to take custody of the Physicsmobile, with the condition that we repainted all the equations. (You might had read that last line and assumed he meant "paint over" but he wanted us to "paint more brightly." What can I say - I have a styling father.)

I have survived my month long vacation and am now (mostly) happily returned. I am itching to get back to work. I've been away from physics education long enough that it looks fun enough. The only down side to my return is the heap of suitcases, boxes, and overflowing baskets of clothes and gifts that now need to be put away.

As is my usual routine after Christmas, I plan a great purge (Goodwill always gains mightily from these events) this weekend. Andrew is trying his best to protect his things, so I forsee great debates who needs a printer without ink more - my closet or some unknown soul who enjoys thifting?

When I was a child, I read about a man who had only 200 belongings. Every time he acquired something new, he parted with something else. I thought this was the greatest thing I had ever heard of. In practice, I have never come close to only 200 things, but there was a period where I could make a home out of two large suitcases, and an even longer period where I could fit all my belongings in my car. Now, alas, those days are far behind me. On one hand, I really enjoy making a home that's comfortable and inviting: having enough dishes to feed a dozen guests, and bedding for those that spend the night. Now and then, however, I feel the weight of all those consumer goods pressing upon me, and then it's time to chuck great bags of goods into the car for the last, lonely ride to Goodwill.

Here's wishing you all a happy, less-belongings-filled New Year.