Kaye and I are presently in the final stage of a struggle to liberate ourselves from, or pack up for moving, the accumulated stuff of more than 30 years in our Worthington, Ohio, house. Alas, the liberation struggle looks like a lost cause. So, on the day before the 50th reunion commences, we expect movers to deliver far too many of our worldly belongings to a new house in Durham, North Carolina, and we will fulfill a long-standing, if modest, plan to retire to the Durham-Chapel Hill area. We will have left behind, regretfully, some good friends, the excellent Columbus Symphony Orchestra and relative proximity to our son and grandson in Cincinnati, and - not so regretfully - a host of well-worn ruts and overly comfortable routines. In return, we will be only marginally closer by air to our daughter's family in Dallas, but much closer to my sister Jean (Yorktown '69) in Chapel Hill, some old college friends and the North Carolina shore. And we'll find ourselves just a few minutes' drive from the place where we fell in love with each other and with chamber music in a Duke series that's still alive and well and to which, along with the summer American Dance Festival, we're eager to subscribe. We are looking forward to ending nearly two years of preoccupation with real estate and house plans, and resuming our real retirement program of reading, writing, making new community connections and finding opportunities for service, walking in the woods with an eye out for birds, and mindful sitting.