And she's up and...packing.

Yeah, I know it's boring, but that's what I'm doing this morning. My parents are going to come over this afternoon to help haul stuff. I mostly want their truck for things that won't fit in my car; but the things that will fit in my car are presently occupying some of the things that won't, so those are the first order of business.

I also have to stop at the post office after they open at 10, to pick up a bit of mail that couldn't be delivered. I already sent the photos of the lucky interviewee from our office off to the guy who puts the newsletter together.

I'm not sure how late tonight we will continue moving stuff. We can probably get a lot done even just in the afternoon, and there's supposed to be more moving-ness tomorrow even.

Yesterday saw the lock rekeyed at the house, and I have the new key. I still have my copy of the old key as well. I'm sure the sentiment will pass, but right now I'm tempted to bead it into a necklace. I'm not sure if that's because I'm thrilled at having a house, or because beading sounds like more fun than packing. :)

Speaking of beading, I am going to miss having that very cool beading store within walking distance. (I'm going to miss it enough that it's probably a very good thing that it won't be.)

I'm going to miss having stores within walking distance, actually. The new place is definitely in suburbia, and it's a pretty significant hike to stores. I don't think I'd want to come back carrying groceries. Might be time to get a bike, but I'm still evaluating whether the road I'd have to take would be sufficiently safe on a bike. :)

Ah, well. Stream-of-consciousness aside, I'm off to pack up stuff in the craft room. Like, the stuff occupying the bookshelves I want to move.

Observations from moving.

1. I'm in better shape than I thought.

2. An entire box full of magazines contrives to weigh more than an entire box full of books, somehow.

3. Hauling particleboard bookshelves by myself is fairly easy.

4. Hauling them downstairs by myself is fairly stupid.

5. We own way too much stuff. (This is not a new observation. And some of it is being removed during the move.)

6. Someone needs to invent functional teleportation. Like, NOW.

7. My car's trunk will hold a lot. My apartment? Will hold a lot more.

My parents rock!

And they let me take advantage of them, too. They came over today, hauled a load of bookcases (five of them!) plus a few miscellaneous boxes over for me, helped me go ladder shopping, and were quite calm/patient about the fact that I hadn't been more prepared, hadn't had more than one load ready, and decided not to get a ladder.

Tomorrow they're coming back. Scott will help us load the heavier stuff into their truck (that's still small enough to go in there) and haul it over there as well. Plus, they're going to stop by the new house first, drop off their step-ladder (we're going to see if it's tall enough - whether I need a six-footer or an eight-footer for the one spot I want to get to especially bad), and drop off a lawnmower. They don't want it any more, you see, and we need one.

Tonight I'm going to try to do lots of packing, the laundry as I pack, and maybe haul another load over there. (I can water the poor potted plants I forgot about, too, and find the mailbox....)

When did I adapt?

My dad, in a recent entry, said our new house was too much suburbia for him and mom. And it is. The house I grew up in is out in the country - it's gorgeous, and peaceful, and distant from the neighbors.

The new house will be great for Scott and I. What amuses me is - when did I adapt? When I went off to college, I chose a small-town college because I was afraid of cities. But this trip to suburbia is a lessening of city-ness for me. For four years, I've lived a block off a major highway, in the middle of a fairly significant city, on a road that's major in its own right.

I've gotten used to being able to walk to the store (when the weather is cooperative), whether I mean the drug store, the discount store, the grocery store, the craft store, the bead store, the post office, the pizza place.... They're all within a block or two of home.

That will not be the case at the new house. I like the location more, but I think it will be hard at first to have everything be a five-minute drive instead of a five-minute walk away. It's definitely more peaceful, though.

And I've spent the past three years (after a failed attempt at container gardening) basically ignoring my deck, because it's a horrid deck. Walled in (good; only view would be others' back yards and windows), cement-floored, bleak and boring. My neighbor to one side has done lovely things with potted roses on her deck, but my attempt at same (with different plants) was sort of a disaster, due to my lousy memory for watering schedules among other things.

I'm very much looking forward to living in the new house. For years now, I've lived in a place which is comfortable enough, nice enough, but which basically, except for the upstairs window that looks south, ends at the walls for all intents and purposes. There's nothing immediately outside my apartment that is pretty or attractive or, excluding that annoying deck, mine.

I love the house I grew up in. I'd like to live in the country like that again. But not at the cost of the commute it would mean; and I adore the new house, in terms of the house itself, and the view it has out the back.