We’ve just returned from the closing and are giddy as we are about to cross the threshold, right foot first of our new home. Fortunately, we a re never really privy to what lies ahead, because our right minds would tell us to stay put, don’t dare, it’s a tough ride and hey, things aren’t so bad the way they are, right? I don’t know if that’s the ‘right’ mind talking or not, but it is pretty persuasive. And as I write this next post, I’m not out of the dizzying questioning battle with this mind, right or not. I seem to be making enough headway to share the next crazy chapter.
Within twenty four hours, I looked more like this:Kind of a quick swing. There are just no words for the overwhelming power of this experience. Inside of one day, I left a huge place empty, and sparkling clean, only to enter small place caught in the path of a tornado.
Just plain shock was the mood of the next two weeks. Where did all this stuff come from after we thought we had rid ourselves of so much? I tell you, when they ask me now if I want a bag for my purchase, or offer to send me home with another paint chart, I just say ‘NO’…thank you. Every extra piece of non essential material brings back that overturned feeling in my stomach when I looked at all we had to find space for.
Order, my new favorite word, was making brief appearances. The kitchen was slowly getting unpacked and items shuffled off to their designated corners. This saving grace nestled right into the only corner of the room, had me bow every time I passed it for bringing Order to a reverential high!
Boxes are mostly gone in the kitchen so a view through to the end of the living room is possible. Lots of stuff still looking for a home. Some days, I think the same for me. I wake up and wonder where I am. I walk down the stairs in the morning and my feet don’t know these steps. I have no routine to use as a hand rail. I realize I have lived in my previous home longer than I have lived anywhere else, so this disorientation should not be surprising…but it is.
It’s September 24 today, a day shy of two weeks since we moved. Only on the surface do things look like they are coming together, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. I’ll take anything that has the semblance of tidy and neat. It’s a brain thing that reassures the humble human that some modicum of control is within reach, and I’m not too proud to grab hold with all my might. I’m in control deprivation mode right now…..scaaaary.
September 27: The “Black Dirt Guy” comes and delivers a truck load of garden manure. Yes! This feels familiar and comforting and down to earth! Earlier, I went to the dump and gathered piles of old newspaper, wet it down and spread it over the 18×30′ garden plot. The next day I came home, the sun had dried the newspaper , the wind had come up and scattered it all over the lawn. Two hours later I had gathered it, re-spread it, and reasserted just who’s Boss! By the way, that’s not the one sitting in the chair!First laundry hung out on my newly strung line!
Even found time to braid and store the onions I grew this summer at the farm. This was the best day, what I love most, getting things done! Garden set, laundry drying outdoors and a little time to reap the harvest! YES! And it is the last weekend in September.
Time to close with this little peek at what October has in store for us. Bright sunny days are real handy when my inside sun is struggling to shine. My clouds pass quickly and my weather is unpredictable, and it is only one month since we moved.
Basically, I like change. I bring an optimistic nature to it, mostly thinking that change is exciting and full of goodness. Maybe that’s why I fall so hard when the change, at least short term, uproots me and feels scary. I was expecting fun!
The upside to being older is knowing that there is a larger stage that all this is playing out on. When I focus in on my little part, I can’t see the whole story. Then the narrator, like the guy in “Our Town” taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that all is well in Grover’s Corner’s