The two big questions

Now that word of my decision to sell my house is leaking out, there are two questions that I am almost inevitably asked.

"Are you going to have a house-warming party in your new apartment?"

"What does Cassie think about the impending move?"

I'm not planning to throw a big housewarming party. I don't do big parties. I'm neither fond of going to big parties nor of hosting big gatherings.

I plan to have friends over -- in small groups -- to see my new place. It'll take a while to get everything organized, but they will be invited.

One thing I have to do is find a new dining-room table. The one I have now is too big and ungainly for the new space. It's been in the family for close to six decades, and it's a beautiful piece of furniture. I hope I can pass it on to a relative or a good friend. It has served the Dales well for two generations, but it's time for it, too, to find a new home of its own.

And to the extent that a house-warming party is one to which those invited bring gifts to "warm up" the new space, no, thank you. I'm downsizing, not upsizing. I have more stuff than I want or need already.

(Anybody need a staple gun? Mine has been sitting in a cigar box in the basement for at least 20 years. I haven't used it since my black lab ran away from home in 1996 and I tacked up notices on the trees in the neighborhood. I found my dog and haven't used the staple gun since. Or how about a perfectly serviceable suitcase? I have four, and three of them are in the giveaway pile in the guest bedroom. Each brings back warm memories of trips to Europe. Also up for grabs is a Zippo lighter that belonged to my late sister. It has a Washington Redskins logo on it. What with the fuss about the Redskins name, that might soon be a collector's item. Maybe I should hang on to it.)

As for questions #2, I haven't told Cassie about the move yet, although I suspect she thinks that something is afoot. (Do cats think? Cassie doesn't appear to ponder much beyond her next meal and the availability of a warm lap. Oh, and a good place to take a nap.)

She's taken some interest in the giveaway pile, especially since it's encroaching on her favorite space to snooze.

She'll like the apartment. It's on the ninth floor, and that will give her new windowsills to sit on and the opportunity to view the world from a perspective she's never experienced before.

Cassie will be just fine. Her food dish, water dish, litter box and cat toys -- especially the red felt mouse she positively venerates -- will be there when she arrives. She'll no doubt spend a week or so exploring every fresh nook and cranny. I'll tell her to look at the move as an exciting adventure. She might not pay attention, but she is, truth be told, along for the ride whether she approves or not.

She won't worry long, if at all. She's easily distracted, wherever she might be and whatever her mood. All I have to do is toss a crumpled-up sticky note.

Or her red felt mouse.

She'll throw herself into play mode and forget all her cares.

Would that life could be so simple for the rest of us.