This move, at least this first phase, is finally over. The hauling stuff up and down stairs, the frustration of trying to arrange oddly shaped objects (which it turns out, all of our objects are) into boxes that don’t really fit. There were a few days where I was so exhausted physically that when I would get out of the car my legs would buckle under me. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten that kind of a workout. And now, the unpacking. The whole time I’m thinking, I have to do this again in three months (we’re staying in my parents’ place in West Michigan temporarily while we wait for the house we will rent later this summer). Here’s a few shots of our empty house, which has served as the backdrop for this blog since its inception. I thought you might like to see it one last time.
Our bedroom; I don’t think it ever made it onto the blog, but it completes our “crayon box” of wall colors as a friend once put it. I’m so glad I won’t have to repaint over that orange. I was getting a little tired of it.
I thought I’d be a basket case, bawling like a baby when I drove away for the last time. And that would have been fine. But it didn’t really happen, I pretty much held it together, which totally surprised me because I’ve been known to get pretty weepy and nostalgic about places and memories. Maybe I’ve just been in moving-mode and I haven’t had time to think about it. Maybe my heart has finally turned completely to stone (my sisters are nodding).
I don’t know… it’s sad to leave and moving sucks, but we have a new phase of life (and a new house) ahead of us. Time to unpack my fabric! Onward ho!