The damages

We are now mostly unpacked, I think this is a my new record for SLOW. I am to the point where I am getting to the things I enjoy about having a new house. We planted the flower beds yesterday and I finally got around to measuring our windows and starting to hang curtains. I have quite a bit of sewing to do, since the windows here are bigger than in my previous modern houses not very many of my curtains will work as is.

So far I have been amazed by the lack of damage to our stuff. Our previous move was our worst ever (where they broke among many other things, my beloved kitchen table). We don’t even have enough to file a claim on for this move:

1) my favorite hat was crushed (an elegant wide brimmed number that I love to wear to outdoor ceremonies, just because)

2) the dutchkid’s 99¢ pail and shovel broken into pieces

Seriously. That’s all I’ve got. Not a single dish, picture or knick knack. Most importantly the table and my piano came through unscathed. I should be grateful, but they didn’t even give me anything good to write about, dangit!

Lest we forget

I can’t say it any better than that. My dh took this photo on our whirlwind trip to DC last fall. I hope you and your loved ones had an enjoyable day today, and that you remembered.

Insecurity

…much of our life is spent doing the crazy mental arithmetic of how, at any given moment, we might improve, or at least disguise or present our defects and screw-ups in either more charming or more intimidating ways.” ~Anne Lamott Grace (Eventually)

While we were in that weird holding pattern between arriving here and starting to unpack, it forced me to unplug from everything for at least a few days. The unexpected benefit was that I found a book I had been wanting to read and actually read it cover to cover in about 2 days.

That sentence hit me like a ton of bricks. What I love about reading Anne Lamott is that it never fails that she writes something and I think to myself, “I didn’t know someone else felt like that!” If you are not one of us who actually does that crazy mental arithmetic, I can no more explain it to you than I can explain string theory.

I like to think that as I’ve gotten older that I have grown more comfortable in my own skin… that the calculations have at least slowed, if not stopped. Right up until I’m faced with the newest challenge, and my insecurities rear their ugly head again. I’m not talking about anything earth shattering here, I’m talking about what should be mundane (and probably is for most people).

This morning we went to our new church, one that we attended when we were here about 6 years ago. I was doing fine, right up until we ran into a couple we knew from when we lived here before. We didn’t know them well, but had mutual friends in common. Back then it seemed like she just didn’t like me, or maybe it was just that we didn’t hit it off for whatever reason. My dh recognized them, but didn’t remember their names or how we knew them. So instead of being honest with him, I pretended like I didn’t remember them either. I didn’t want to be the one who knew all about them, when they might not remember us. I even knew their kids’ names. And while we’re talking politely to them about the acquaintances we have in common I’m silently sizing her up: “Am I thinner? prettier? She looks tired and older.” Stupid.

Ironically, although I don’t think they remembered us, I still got the same vibe from her. Sort of the same bland disinterest. When I came home I had to get out the book and reread that quote again. Someday, I’m going to be able to grow up and opt out of the math.

House quirks

quirky things about my house: coal door

Originally uploaded by dutchican

Our “new” house is actually very old, I’m not sure exactly how old but it is close to a century. This little door is in the cellar/basement. It still opens and there are remnants of coal in it (along with other not so nice things). It must have been part of an old heating system, I’m guessing. For some reason such things fascinate me. The house is full of little oddities.

Ten years

I have been married for ten years today.

I’d like to think that as I stood on that mountainside in Korea that I knew exactly what I was getting into, but the craziness that is our life has been unexpected. The life of an Army family is far different from anything I had envisioned.

When we got married, one of my dear uncles wrote me a lovely letter of advice. I would quote from it directly but I’m not that far unpacked. I remember clearly how he wrote that my aunt asked him once which year of their marriage had been the best. He stated that it was the current year (which had not been one of smooth sailing), which surprised her. He qualified that by writing how that was not because their first years were so rough, but because each year their relationship grew stronger. Oh how true that is. I would not trade places with my ten-year-younger self for all the tea in China. Even if I was thinner and prettier back then.

We have spent our day with relatively little fanfare. I guess we are officially “old and married” because the only thing we could think of to give each other was the microwave and deep freeze we need for the house. He gave me a box of chocolates this morning, and helped me clear out a flowerbed that had been overgrown with grass. We’re continuing to unpack at a snail’s pace. Maybe we’ll go out for dinner. Ten years sounds like such a milestone, I wonder if instead we should have had some hoopla about it. But that just wouldn’t be us.

I know you don’t ordinarily read my blog, my love, but just in case I wanted you to know that THIS year has been the best…

I am here…

…but trying to dig my way out of all the moving paper and boxes. We were in denial all weekend. So instead of starting to unpack after the moving truck was divested of its contents, we chose instead to stay at the hotel and pretend we were just visiting. The fence for the dogs went up today and I have legal internet instead of piggybacking on my new neighbors’ wireless. I will try to come up with some funny stories about the move to regale you with… soon.

Grubby

Well, we’re here. Tired and grumpy the lot of us.

It never fails that at the last minute I’m always frantically cleaning the house. Even though every single house I have ever moved into was nasty (no matter whether it was bought or rented) I always feel compelled to clean the one I’m leaving. I have never been able to just load the U-haul and walk away thinking: “It’s their house to clean now.” It’s some sort of weird compulsion. I would say it’s a Dutch one, except my Dutch dh doesn’t suffer from that affliction. He’s always more obsessed with either a) how much money it’s costing or b) how behind schedule we are.

At least with this move we didn’t have to drive across the country (just several states) so the just getting here was less painful than last time. We sign for our house tomorrow and hopefully our household goods won’t be far behind. Until then, I’ll have a whole new house to clean.

I’m not looking…

The packers are here. Two ladies who came from a company based out of Ft. Bragg, which is several hours from here. It’s interesting that with gas so expensive they would pay to have them drive all the way down, but I’m not sorry. From past experience, I’ve had good luck with lady packers. They seem like they know what they’re doing, so I’m opting for the hiding my head in the sand approach… just letting them do their thing and hoping for the best. So here I am. Surfing instead of supervising.

Update:  I’m telling you, those ladies can PACK.  They did my entire house (about 12,000 lbs they estimated) in 6 hours.  It was supposed to take 2 days.

Making progress

Sometimes when I’m feeling sorry for myself, I like to think doing a DITY (sorry, “Do IT Yourself move”) would actually be easier. But then I stop smoking that crack pipe and realize that no, trying to load up all your furniture, find enough boxes and make sure it doesn’t all get broken would be worse.

We always do a partial DITY to pay for the U-haul. After the Army completely lost an entire shipment of my dh’s stuff (before we were married), we always take the stuff we couldn’t bear to lose or be broken. I just hate these last few days when my house is a shambles, piles of stuff everywhere and boxes of stuff we’re taking that are partially packed. You really can’t pack everything because you still need some of the junk until right before the movers arrive.

I usually fall into the trap of trying to organize my house in some sort of logical order in the pipe dream that maybe unpacking it would be easier on the other end. However, that dream has never come true. The movers don’t abide by my neat system of keeping everything together and I still always find random objects thrown together in the boxes.

This time, dh and I decided that we would focus on just separating out the stuff we are taking. This sounds so logical! (you can tell it was his idea). We’ll see how that works out for us when we unpack. For now it’s driving me crazy.

How dare they!?

There’s something about the home inspection process in selling your home that gets under my skin. I don’t know why it irks me to have the buyers come through with a professional to nitpick my house, but it just does. Outlining all the things that they are going to change or improve and “oh this paint color will be so much better!” And then asking us to fix things.

I like to think that when I’m a prospective buyer I am a little more sensitive to how the sellers might feel (ha!). I might hate your paint colors and decor but I’m not mean enough to say it within earshot. I guess I am strangely defensive about my house. Maybe it’s because I feel like they’re getting a killer deal to start with and then they want to nickel and dime me? We left this morning after they got started, thank goodness, and at least we don’t have to be present for the closing. I am even more glad that we will be living on post next, at least I will be spared this whole process again for awhile.