Why hello!
I seem to have lost a month in there, didn't I? That's what happens, I suppose, when you plan a big move without realizing that a married couple of - I will admit it- adult age just may have a lot more stuff than a single post-college itinerant wanderer. When I moved to California at 22 I packed all my belongings into my beloved Honda Accord and drove myself cross country. Three years later, I had accumulated enough furniture to warrant a small storage cube, the kind that the moving company drops off and hauls for you.
This time? My husband and I were wedged into a tiny one-bedroom that we had long ago outgrown - our wedding gifts were still piled in my grandmother's spare room, our extra storage space was overflowing, and we could barely walk. It was time to upsize.
I won't go into detail, but in the end our move required two U-Haul trucks, both my parents (one to load, one to unload) three professional movers, and many, many days. In the end, though, we found ourselves in paradise: a new home (a HOUSE!) just a block from a wonderfully cold, rocky beach, with an office for him and a studio for me, a big kitchen, and the salty smell in the air that I've been missing for far too long. It's nice to be a New Englander again.
ASAP I'll be posting a catch-up on all the crafting I've managed to squeeze in, which is actually a lot; procrastinating from packing is a remarkably efficient way to finish many pairs of socks! I've also watched many quality movies while sorting through approximately 8,000 boxes of who-knows-what.
Let the new chapter commence!
No comments:
Post a Comment