The question keeps coming at my wife and me: When are you moving?

The answer is beginning to change, I am happy to say. I can answer with some certainty: “We’re closer today than we were yesterday, but we don’t yet have a date. Although a date is beginning to present itself way out there on the horizon.”

I have mentioned in this blog that our pace is accelerating. It still is.

Our days of late have been spent clearing out the house we used to call “home.” If I haven’t mentioned it in this blog, I’ll do so now: I married Wonder Woman more than 46 years ago.

She is an expert at this moving thing. She’s a master packer of possessions. She makes virtually all the critical moving decisions. I abide by them. I also simply do what I’m told to do. She issues the orders, I follow them. It’s that simple, man.

But the truth is that our retirement journey is on the verge of making an important turn toward our destination. The mover is coming very soon. He will haul our possessions away. The house will be empty.

We will clean it up with brooms, vacuum, mop and bucket and window cleaner.

Then very soon we’ll ask a Realtor — who happens to be a friend — to come see us. She’ll assess the value of our home, make recommendations on what to do to give it maximum marketability. We’ll proceed rapidly from there.

Then we’ll stick a sign in the front yard.

I have been fond of saying that we all need one final challenge in their life. Our final major challenge is at hand.

I’ve heard from more than one of my retired friends who have said that they’ve “never been busier” than since they quit working for a living.

I get it.