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Preparing to Move

June 22, 2010

Sorry I haven’t been posting, folks. Instead of writing, my new pastime is measuring each and every object in the house in order to create a complete list for the movers. Whoops! The list is not complete: I forgot to get the dimensions of the metro shelving hidden in the closet. Whoops! Incomplete again, because I forgot to measure the inflatable bouncing donkey from nose to tail. How will I work in the measurements of the ears! I’ll have to email them. These movers, they will not be happy if I don’t include the ears.

I’m old enough to know when someone is laughing uproariously at the hoops that I am semi-willingly jumping through. Somewhere in Bronxville or perhaps the East Village, a move administrator is showing my list to the boys, and he is just guestimating the cost.

Whoops! I didn’t include our 2 garbage cans. Whoops! I own another duffel bags. Up it goes up by exactly $100!

What else is going on in the Westminster Zoo: I become really sad when I think of leaving this lovely place where I first lived with Matthew (well, except for this place, which I moved into 4 years ago for a brief 2 months, and which inspired the blog). Where I live now is where I became engaged, and spent the first of many blissful, and sleepless, and blissful, nights with Baby Henry. Who is now Little Boy Henry.

Every morning this version of Henry gets up, eats one truckload of food for breakfast, and then runs to get his tiny little bike helmet and hands it to me and points to the door. Owsai! Owsai! He loves being outside, and he loves the bike, but he also loves coming back home. On the occasion of drinking 2 tequila drinks a few weeks ago, one right after the other, I became very sad thinking about how Henry will be confused when we don’t come here anymore. (I used to just cry on behalf of the cat’s small injustices, but now I have Henry. Lucky Henry.)

These things make me somewhat sad, as does the impending loss of our beautiful green wooden porch flanked by hundreds of purple flowers, as does shrinkage of my kitchen. I’ve been living large in a big eat in kitchen with room for an ice cream maker, a dutch oven designed for camping, multiple other dutch ovens. Now I will, um, put it all into boxes, and try to stuff it into a very petite galley kitchen.

Ok, off to bubble wrap something! Here, kitty kitty.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Hillery H permalink
    June 25, 2010 1:32 pm

    That inflatable runner donkey has a name, you know – and I suspect its name is Rody. Viva Rody! You have my sympathies for the sheer drudgery and emotional roller-coaster of moving one’s home, especially when you are moving a brood (yours is small, but still a brood). Milla still asks me to drive us by our old house and if we can ‘go home now.’ That was our first house and where both my kiddos had every childhood family home memory until the last two months. It’s hard. But the new memories are coming along nicely too. Good luck!

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