Done. Over. Finished. Accomplished. Completed. History.
Well, only the part about moving out . . . not the part about moving in. Our furniture is in place, and some of our artwork has found walls to hang on. Our garage is currently a staging area for boxes and more boxes, and we’re probably another week away from finding a place for all our possessions. But I have a new axiom: “No box will come inside unless we know where we’ll put the contents.” And, since we have more contents than we have space, I suspect we’ll end up pitching more “stuff” before it’s over.
It doesn’t matter. Both Earl and I have commented how great it is to be downsizing.
About the time we moved into River House and began our era of acquiring, my aunt and uncle began the downsizing process themselves. Only they had lived in their home thirty-eight years. They spent months ridding themselves of the collectibles of those years before putting their house on the market. Then they spent more months waiting for their condo to be finished, and finally moving in. I remember conversations with them about the work involved, but I didn’t realize how much work it was. Now I do.
In an unguarded moment, I mentioned to someone that I don’t ever want to move again. Chris was stunned, because he knows I actually enjoy the moving process. He said he was noting this date on his calendar. I think what I meant, however, was that I won’t be ready to move again in the near future.
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