Liralen Li (liralen) wrote,
Liralen Li
liralen

  • Mood:

Narrowing Down


The possibilities in the old, Erie house are narrowing down significantly. We've packed or even moved enough things that what we can do here is getting more and more limited. Most of the kitchen is packed. The closets echo. The shelves are bare. And the boxes pile up bigger and bigger and bigger.

George and Isabel, since they arrived on Wednesday, have been doing yeoman work at getting things into boxes. It's always nice having people who have no emotional attachment to the objects in question doing the packing. They don't hesitate or exclaim from finding something that they'd thought lost years and years ago. They just pack things up.

Wow.

I'm the slowest of the lost. John and even Jet are better at it than I am. I peer and poke and prod and categorize everything into what needs to be packed now, packed later, or, man, what *is* that? *grin*

Though, as the moving day grows closer and closer I have less and less excuse for what might not need packing. That's pretty funny.

Today was wet and raining for the first time all spring. We really need the moisture and it felt so good to have the air washed clean. I think I slept well, last night, for the first time in a long time. The forest fires to the north were making a real mess of the air, and being able to breath at night was a luxury at last. I slept like a log, though I stayed up the latest with Jet. John and George took the early morning shift, and both John and I took a long nap this afternoon. This after moving a dozen boxes to the other house, unpacking them, and then bringing them back to be filled again.

Jet napped on the way there. One second awake and complaining about something George was saying, the next asleep and snoring. He napped in the new house's office while we did all our things. I unpacked. Then I followed my need and went out the front door and picked up all the fallen, dried cherries from a wild cherry tree out front. The tree is starting to bud and blossom for spring. Wow. Brilliant red-pink flowers gently poking out of velvet buds. There are fire bushes in the back yard, starting to show a few red blossoms, and there are bright yellow daffodils out and blooming like crazy. I should put some in a vase for the house. There are niches where they would do beautifully. A lone tulip is showing, but the front yard has a dozen or so other bulb flowers showing.

It's nice.

A neighbor two doors down came over to introduce themselves. They have two teen sons. I'll have to see if either of them are interested in baby-sitting or getting paid five bucks an hour to unpack. That might be a fun way to get to know them.

After doing what we needed to at the house, we stopped at Saigon Express for lunch. Jet awoke as we put him back into the car, and he ate most of small bowl of pho himself. He got his very own bowl and after getting over the fuss of blowing it cooler himself, he dug right in and kept eating while everyone else ate. I guess he was hungry! This is very good. And he even liked the green onions in the bowl. Normally he calls them "yucky things", but this time, when John tried to fish them out of the bowl, Jet objected, saying he wanted them, and when he ate them he smiled hugely. Wow.

When we all got home, we all napped. Me more than most. I am still, I think, catching up from before Mexico. I've been in serious sleep debt, and these grey days are prefect for catching up.

We'll probably have leftovers for dinner. Whatever can be microwaved or toaster oven'ed... and the areas that are left to be packed can be counted on one hand. This is very, very good. We're much further along than I thought we would be, given that professional packers took three whole days to pack everything up we had in Redmond. I'll admit that we've significantly reduced the number of things we have since we got here and we started two weeks ago with a box here and a box there; but to have it be so easy this last weekend before The Move, is very, very nice.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments