Homage to the Armstrong Bathroom Makeover Disaster

I did not want to move. Don’t get me wrong I love being in Winston Salem and it is for sure the best thing we have done in our lives so far. But folks I did not want to pick up all of the stuff we own and put it into a truck/our cars/my hands and move the shit into another house where I would then have to dig through it and find places to put it away again. I did not want to do that.

So my husband and I had that conversation. I work 3 jobs. I am taking classes. I cannot help you do this. It is your priority and I have finally given in and acknowledged that we need to be in Winston Salem, but I cannot help you do this. He engaged the help of his father and I said fine. You move it. Remember that I cannot help you.

I knew that the agreement had gone South when I got the call at 8pm on day one of moving van rental. “We picked up the van. Then we bought a chair and went to the house to load the things that are going to my Dads. Now we are going to Dads to unload. None of us have eaten and we’re just going to have to load up the truck in the morning.” Oh Sweet Lord this was bad. It devolved from there to become a 2 week process of exactly what I expected. Picking stuff up, carrying it to the car, driving to Winston, carrying the shit into the house, putting it down, and then milling around in giant stacks of boxes until you find something you need. Lather, rinse, and repeat.

The I Can’t Help You conversation is long forgotten. Saturday we dug out a 4 foot by 6 foot Prickley Pear cactus. This was a remarkably easy task that only cost me one pair of leather gloves. I still don’t know how to get it to the compost facility or if they will even take it once I get it there, but it is out of my yard. I am seriously considering those things that shrink wrap bags of clothes and blankets so you can store them in small spaces. Someone at work had a box of books to give away left over from a yard sale. I checked every title in paperbackswap.com and these aren’t even my books!

We do have a Harry Potter room under the stairs… Now if I could only figure out how Harry makes it into a real sized room that holds all of his shit.

Hoppy Easter!

I have two great Easter memories that stand out. The first is one when I was very little and my Dad put out chocolate covered raisins and said that the Easter bunny had been in the house and left rabbit droppings everywhere.

If you know my Dad, you know this makes total sense.

The next is a year we had snow on Easter. I remember laying on back between the trees in our back yard and the huge fluffy flakes falling softy all around me. I love that memory. It's one of my happy thoughts.

This Easter I am missing being with my family and enjoying Mina's first Easter. My sister loves bunnies so I bet Mina will get at least one lovely stuffed bunny to hug. I am also missing my Grandmother's pickled beet eggs.I love them!

Kelly- if you are reading this, let everyone know I would rather be home with all of you, eating beet eggs and ham.

I will instead be in a hot dusty house packing up what is left of our lives and trying to move on up.

moving

I detest the process of moving even more than I hate cleaning. I wish there was a magic spell that could beam all of this to the new house and then I could use all of my energy to just weed out the unnecessary and be done. I like the concept of having less, but I hate the actual moving things from here to there.

Today we could not find an adapter cord. Correction THE adapter cord. We found about 100 adapter cords just not the one that would fit until about an hour into the process. Boy was I sorry that I asked...

The stepdaughters apparently have been convinced by their mother that our new old house is haunted... Great. The younger one has been taking photos and running them through a heat sensing filter to show us the hot spots. I will have to remind her that they usually look for COLD spots when it's ghosts. Maybe hot spots mean we have demons... NOT!

Everything looks lovely and freshly painted. Can't wait till we have piles of books and garbage everywhere. Sigh... Looks like Easter weekend is gonna be sifting and sorting. No candy coma, no going home to see my family.... bigger sigh.

On the bright side our house is 2 blocks from the recently relocated Favorite Bar of all time. We sat their last night and listened to belligerent Irishmen argue over Irish political history in between songs about the Uprising... I loved every minute. The fabulous food doesn't hurt either. I think we're going to have to start a Pub fund. Fancy a pint?

The Agony

I wish I had the same switch my husband has that shuts everything off and puts him instantly to sleep. In exactly four weeks it should all be over, the moving the stress the unknowing... But my gosh. Whoever said getting there is half the fun?

My new to me house will be 100 years old this year! I want to find a special way to celebrate that. I also want to find a way to ease our lives into the new situation. Old house, old neighborhood just 1/2 a mile from a vibrant downtown with an arts scene and live music and a brand new baseball stadium! I am so excited to be moving.

It's romantic, the notion that we'll be just a few miles from where we met. Where we spent some very romantic moments. I can't wait for the feeling of lifting our lives up. It should be interesting to see if that works for all of us, or if we will be met with resistance!

A Second Chance

Here I go. Starting a new phase in my life and a new blog.

I WILL do it!

We are moving to the city, closer to our new life and further away from the old.
My sister and her husband will be moving with little Miss Ellamina and FAMILY is the new most important word in our vocabulary!

Life's looking up!