Well, we’re finally here.
Not totally, of course – in the next 12 days before our lease at the apartment is up we still need to drive back down, rescue the few remaining items (lights come in handy), drop a room’s worth of items at Goodwill, and clean the apartment as if we were never there. But that’s for next week.
We had an awesome team to help us with our move. I use “us” lightly; for this round I was “girl in the green shirt” (because the guy who couldn’t remember my name was afraid to call me “pregnant chick” – I guess he’s made an error in that department before!), director of traffic and co-warmer of soups for consumption. To compensate for my own feelings of uselessness during the actual move, I’ve already unpacked more than a dozen boxes and found homes for them – after a nap, of course. Moving (even when someone else is doing the heavy lifting) is hard work.
I’ve been to this house a number of times since the night we got the keys, but having our own belongings in it finally makes it feel like home. The rooms no longer echo, and I’m getting used to the random creaks in the hardwood floor that Brian will undoubtedly try to tackle sometime this spring. I’m comforted by the sight of my own glasses in the china cabinet, the sound of my cats coming up and down the stairs…
Oh, the cats. We brought them over Friday night so they could have some time to get used to their new house. Instead, they cowered in the kitchen until we carried them into the one bedroom where they’d feel most safe, and closed them in for the better part of two days. When we let them out yesterday morning they went into hiding again, and I learned once again that cats are at the bottom of the “listen to Mommy” totem pole. When I finally found Tej, his expression told me “I’ve heard you yelling for the last half hour; I just don’t care.”
I love my cats.
There will be scores of new reflections as we get totally settled, but for the moment I have more boxes to pack – and, after a very long hiatus, groceries to buy!
Home, sweet home.