When changes come

I've always found changes come  en masse, intertwining smaller changes with large ones. Small or large, they can ripple my pond's depths for ages.

Six years ago, my friends Doug and Alice gave me an old love seat long ago consigned to a secondary room. With a slip-cover to shield its date fabric, its firm cushions

After buying a sectional in October 2010 (a friend could not get it into her new apartment), the love seat migrated to the porch. In some towns, this is illegal. But I had little porch furniture and with winter approaching, I couldn't take it to the curb.

Before Percy became an indoor cat, I sometimes napped on the couch, while he would curl up with me.At dinner parties, the couch became the outdoor hub when the cooks took over.

The end came as a heat wave gripped the Southeast. On a Thursday when the mercury passed 100 degrees, I found myself sharing the couch with some biting ants. The long-awaited infestation struck, and I had no choice but to haul it to the road.

For the rest of the heat wave, it never moved. I planned to call bulk pickup, but held out hope that someone would take the love seat. Most couches set curbside were trashed - stained, missing cushions  or arm covers, or just flat-out ready for the landfill. While never a pretty couch, this one had life left in it, or so I hoped.

When we returned from Kentucky on Sunday, I found a post-it note on the door asking about the couch. When I saw "Bill" on the note, I assumed it was my old neighbor offering to haul it away. Actually, a gentlemen who wasn't my former neighbor returned that night to ask if he could have it. I didn't mention my ant issues, but was glad to know someone could use it.

Three months ago, an old wound inflicted on my television by a young and feral Percy became fatal. As a kitten, Percy became obsessed with its built-in VCR slot. As his paws dug deep into the electronics, they eventually knocked something out of place, and the television would only stay on if a tape remained in the VCR. Only one tape would work -- The Usual Suspects. One wonders if Percy fashions himself the feline Keyser Soze.

After a power outage, the television would not stay. Only some miracle combination of pounding fists and pressing buttons could keep it rolling. For three months, I went without, reading and relying on my record player for background noise. In June, I decided to end up my 1940s setup and upgrade with a modest flat-screen. Percy has shown zero interest in the lightweight TV, although I did catch him watching Ken Burns National Parks and dreaming of the outdoors.

The couch and television stands in contrast the bigger change. The end of my two-job run. At the end of July, I will end a three-run tenure at the wine store.

Due to many factors, it had to happen. Foremost among them was my condition - I'm tired all the time, and selling booze seriously restricts my flexibility. My dayjob's responsibilities and demands have grown considerably and I cannot sustain the old pace anymore.

The lost money won't be a killer. I can become a customer again. At this point, I can't balance anymore, and the store is the biggest target. I never needed the job for financial reasons, but personal ones. Those have been addressed.

With this newfound flexibility, will I simply drop in front of the new television? Hardly. My bicycle might not be new, but the next change I need will be a welcome return to regular bike rides.