I started this blog post earlier in the day but I had to delete it. I’m sure no one wanted to hear how hard moving is when you’re on the wrong side of 50 and you have way too much stuff. We’ve been emptying boxes for days and there are still millions left to empty. Okay, not millions, maybe dozens. And there are just as many boxes that will never be emptied; there’s just nowhere to put their contents. Hmm, garage sale or Craig’s list? Maybe both. I’m sure someone will pay something for the crap, I mean stuff, we no longer need. So, we’ve been slowly working away at all the things that need doing. Slowly and gingerly, as I said we’re on the wrong side of 50 and moving is hard work. 

On a more positive note, it feels wonderful to be in our own place, sleeping in our own bed and cooking without worrying whether the pigging smoke detector will go off.  In the mornings I sit on the windowseat in our living room with a cup of tea and watch the kids walking to school. There is a grassed park in front of our complex with a pedestrian walkway. The whole area is beautifully landscaped, with mature trees and flowering shrubs. Families go by, with their strollers and leashed dogs. Young people ride their bikes or skateboards. Seniors amble along with their shopping bags, often stopping to rest on one of the many benches along the way. There are people going by all the time. The view from that window always makes me happy. I am looking forward to seeing how the gardens change with the seasons. Spring is definitely beautiful with its rhododendrons, azaleas and cherry blossoms.  We’ve been spending time with the boys, or rather they’ve been spending time with us, helping with the move. Jordan spent the weekend here, putting together the entertainment unit and moving the heavy stuff. Darin popped by with food and to help shift boxes. His real contribution has been the constant trips with the truck, hauling away the empty boxes so we can move around in here. We had Easter Sunday brunch together, and I’m sure more family dinners are in our futures. 

It feels so good to be “home” again. In a month or ten all the work will  be done and we will be able to really enjoy it. The garage will have our cars and our bikes in it instead of being full of all the stuff that doesn’t fit in our house. The kitchenware will be stowed in organized cupboards, not sitting on the counters and dining room table. The pantry and freezers will be stocked so I can indulge my love of cooking and baking. My craft room will be set up so I can start trying all the ideas I’ve found on Pinterest. And maybe by then we won’t be limping and riddled with pain.

I don’t want to move again. We’re too old for this sh*t. If we do have to move, we’re selling everything with the house. Either that, or we’re selling the house, buying another and then going on vacation while someone we’ve hired moves our stuff and sets up our new house. Then we’ll come home with our small suitcases and that will be that. I mean it, I really do. Now I think it’s time for my next dose of Aleve. I hope I can get up off the couch!