Every night by the time I’m done working at midnight, I just want to sleep. So I do that instead of writing here.
But tonight I am sacrificing a bit of sleep so I can quickly update this blog so you don’t think I’m trapped in an avalanche of moving boxes.
A week and a half ago, the moving truck arrived. The truck driver directed his three helpers and by 5 p.m., all of our belongings were loaded into the Mayflower truck. That makes it sound so easy, doesn’t it?
Truth be told, my feet hurt from packing sixteen hours the day before. I was exhausted from sleeping only three hours that night. And I was still packing up the master bedroom while the movers were emptying our house of boxes.
The sweet thing about that day was how my kids’ friends showed up just to hang out while the movers were moving our stuff out from under them.
At 5 p.m., we drove out of our circle. I kept wondering what we might have forgotten, then remembered that the house was empty, so we couldn’t have forgotten anything.
The first night, we drove to Salem, Oregon. I’m not sure how we ever managed car trips without a GPS and an iPhone. It was after 7 p.m. before I started calling to find a hotel. (And scored! We stayed at a nice Best Western that gave us a free breakfast at Denny’s the next morning.)
On Saturday, we drove from 9 a.m. until . . . oh, I don’t remember, but it was ten hours or eleven. The terrain through northern California is hilly and curvy and exhausting to drive. We were at the hotel early enough for the kids to swim before the pool closed at 10 p.m.
On Sunday, we only had to drive about six hours before we arrived at our new home. Of course, I had completely overlooked the need for bedding, so that night I slept on the couch (we purchased from the sellers of the house) using two bath towels for a blanket. (I had two duffel bags of clean last-minute laundry packed into the car. It was pretty random.)
On Monday, we walked along the beach, gawking at ground squirrels on one side of the path and pelicans overhead and surfers bobbing in the ocean.
Tuesday, the moving truck arrived. By 2 p.m., they had unloaded all of our furniture and boxes and belongings. I have unpacked most of the important things–the kitchen is completely unpacked, as are the living rooms and family rooms. The master bedroom is in good shape, though my half of the closet is a jumble of shoes and clothes. I’ve discovered boxes in the garage that seem to have been abandoned there by lazy movers–it was easier for them to put those boxes in the garage than to cart them upstairs where they belong.
The first week we were here, Grace went to VBS and Zach went along as a helper. The teenagers keep waking up unbelievably early because the light is so bright in this whole house. Sunlight! Who knew that it could shine so regularly and intensely?
This week, Grace is going to soccer camp.
I’m back to work full-time after taking off two half-days to pack.
We barely acknowledged Independence Day since we had no real idea where to watch fireworks without being caught in bad traffic. My husband bought a couple of back-yard games for the kids–and they played while I went to two different grocery stores and spent the afternoon doing food preparation.
Our new house is spacious and bright. I’m still trying to figure out what the light switches control and what time the mailman comes. I unpacked nineteen boxes of books, then discovered nine more boxes marked “OFFICE” in the garage.
I’m wondering if I’ll ever have any friends here and how long it will take to fit in.
Meanwhile, I’ll be sitting at Soccer Camp in the morning, reading in the sunshine. Though, of course, as soon as we left Washington, the sun came out there.