I’m tempted to let this post be then entirety of my thoughts on the subject.
I moved. The end.
BUT… it’s been good. It’s tough to move houses and even tougher to move when it is a facet of starting your life over. To say that I had a mental block on packing is an understatement akin to saying, “Yeah, it’s a little warm in Oklahoma in August.”
I had several kick-ass friends come help me, though. Shelley, Glynis, Sara, Lindsay, Ryan and Rachael all helped me pack. If it wasn’t for the guilt of them giving me their time and resources, I would still be in the ghost house wishing for a fairy to save me. I got more than one fairy….the gratitude overwhelms me. Every day.
Monday morning, after I went for my “run”, had a shower and breakfast, two enormously strong men arrived at my doorstep with a big truck. After a few hours the truck was half full and the tall one strutted past me with my entire queen-sized mattress on his shoulder like it was a scarf and I decided to marry him. For a minute.
Now, I’m in the new house. The walls are freshly painted and the floors are freshly redone. The whole craftstman-style house is nearing 100 years old but is glorious and has that new-house smell. So much smell than I will be sleeping with two air purifiers in my bedroom tonight. This is above my mantel, as it has been at my last two homes.