June 22, 2014 at 8:15 am (Life) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

I’m getting better at this moving thing.

I should be getting better at this moving thing.

I’ve done it enough.

I’ve probably moved over twenty times in the last thirty years.

The last two moves have been the biggest, that is, when I had the most stuff to move. My last move into Saskatoon in 2005, I had a bed, a night table and a rocking chair for furniture and acquired a sofa bed one month after the move.

By my last move out of the city two years ago I had 4 pieces of bedroom furniture, 2 kitchen table with three chairs and 7 pieces of living room/study furniture plus at least twenty boxes (1/2 of them filled with books).

In Process

I saved all my boxes from that move because I knew I was moving at least one more time. I went from a one bedroom to a two bedroom at the same rent so I had an empty closet to store the boxes in. For most of my first year living there, I had an empty room until I bought a recliner (so comfy) and moved my old green chair into the empty room. You can see the green chair below surrounded by boxes. It was my quiet room which I never meditated in. When you live alone you don’t really need a quiet room!

Filling Boxes

As I packed boxes, this time, I moved them into my quiet room so that I did not have to look at them every day. I don’t like disorder! I worked in a library so I also took empty boxes home with me from there – 8 in total. Eight strong, sturdy book boxes.

I gave myself a week to pack so that I wouldn’t have to exist in disorder for too long. Monday and Tuesday I packed the big Living/study Room, Wednesday I packed the Dining Room, Thursday I packed the Kitchen, Friday I packed the Bedroom, Bathroom and Linen closet and Saturday I waited around and read until the moving van came.

When all was said and done, I had three boxes left over. Like I said, I’m getting better at this moving thing. Though, as again, at least 2/3 of the boxes were books. It’s a good thing I get most of my books from the library to read or heaven knows how many boxes I would have needed!

Moving Van

This is my last move. They can bury me here. My stuff and I will only move in small increments now. I’ve moved into my sister’s house on and off since I got here to take care of her dog. It’s easier than him coming here. So I take a little bit of my stuff (book, toothbrush, jammies) with me the days I have to walk him after sleeping over. The bad part of doing this is that it’s been raining and raining and raining. The dog and I got very wet today!

I was lucky in that my nephew could move me since they had to move me along with my stuff. And even though I moved on Saturday I didn’t get possession of my house until Monday and my stuff didn’t get moved until after six as my nephew had to work.

So I spent Saturday night and Sunday morning with my nephew and Sunday afternoon and Monday at my sister’s house. I was ecstatic to finally move into my own house. My last move. My own place. A permanent place for me and my stuff.

Clean & Empty

I am no longer a renter. I own something. I own something really big. Sometimes this house feels as intimidating as owning an elephant – huge, expensive, exotic.

If I want to, I can paint the walls. If I want to, I can have loud parties. If I want to. I don’t have to worry about damage deposits and cleaning before I leave.

Now I get to worry about other things – like taxes and lawns and long-term neighbours.

Do people still gossip?

Will I fit in with my strange ways and eccentric moods?

Here is Garbo supervising the unpacking.

Here is Garbo supervising the unpacking.

I found out my sister thinks me brave because I quit things just like that – she means that I quit places and jobs without always knowing my next step.

I do not feel brave.

I do know that this is my first house and my last move.

I make a home here. I make a home now.

I make a home!



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