So, lest you think that moving was a totally traumatic occurrence, let me assure you that there was plenty of levity to be had; some of it not discovered until after the actual move, but funny nonetheless. In order to tell this story properly, I need to back up a little. When we moved into the house in 1969 there was carpet only in the living room and hall. The three bedrooms were hardwood. My father, coming from the generation that looked upon hardwood floors as an indication of poverty, put carpet in those rooms as soon as possible. This meant that the ends of those three doors had to be cut off. When I removed the carpet, the doors were of course too short and left gaps when closed.
To present day - since moving meant having the front door open, I had to trap BooBear in the bathroom; Bubba and Aidan in the first bedroom. Anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time knows that Bubba doesn’t like to be closed up in a room. He protests quite loudly. Moving day was no exception. It was so funny to see Bubba’s nose and one eye peeking out from under the door. Poor pitiful Bubba, begging with that one eye.
Obviously, we had to unhook the washing machine in order to move it. No problem for the guy who was helping us. He used to be a professional mover. Easy, right? Hmmmm. When he unhooked the hot water, it wouldn’t turn off. Water was squirting everywhere, the floor was flooding and the three of us (Cavin, Bebo and I) were in a panic. The water was scalding his hand and Bebo grabbed some of my clean clothes for him to wrap around his hand as he tried to turn off the valve. I made frantic calls to my cousins who are plumbers. Brother number one didn’t answer. Brother number two did. And laughed. “Go turn off the hot water at the water heater” he gasped when he could. Huh? That’s too obvious, right? Of course that worked. Water was everywhere; a small lake in the middle of the dining room. Cavin was soaked.
Fast forward to me unpacking; I came across a small box that perplexed me. I could have sworn that I had left it on the bathroom counter. I put it on my bar and waited for Bebo to get there. “What is this?” I said as she came in the door. “It’s a light bulb” she answered. “No, it’s not just a light bulb. It’s a garage door opener bulb.” She stared at me. “I left it there on purpose as it’s quite obvious that I don’t have a garage door.” Bebo is a real good packer. In fact, Bebo is a terrific packer. She packs all sorts of things that I wouldn’t need. Like the cover to the smoke alarm in the study at home. What am I going to do with that?
So see, it wasn’t all tears and sorrow, there was laughter involved. Some funny memories to start my new life with.
That's the journey of a writer, long and winding. Ups and downs, rejections, joys, acceptance, laughter, tears, community, and yet a sense of loneliness. The road is bumpy, often full of potholes, and yet it's one we gladly follow, for we are writers and writing is a part of our soul. Join me on my journey.
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
New Home
Oh no!!! I wrote this last night, but was having problems with the internet and kept closing down the computer and rebooting. In the meantime, word, of course, went bye bye and I forgot all about it! Sorry I'm late.
Well we’re here and we sorta have internet. This is the same problem that I was having before I moved. It’s the laptop, refusing to hook up to the router. It also keeps telling me that a network cable is unplugged? Huh? There’s no cable hooked up to it, nor has there ever been. Oh well. Also, at about 8:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. it refuses to hook up at all. When my money comes in from the house sale I’m going to have to have it looked at.
The move was traumatic for the cats. First, BooBear was closed up in the bathroom. Bubba and Aidan were put in the Master bedroom and then when the guest room was cleared out, they were moved there. Bubba does not like to be closed up in a room without a human, but we had to do it to keep them from running out the propped open front door. We made a couple of runs from the house to the apartment. We were so tired that we decided to get the cats, go home and then come back the next day to finish up. My niece and her husband were coming to pick up and store the things for my brother so we had to be there anyway. I took a last look around in the closets and noticed something way back on the shelf in the Master. It was a small box. I took it down, opened it up and cried. You see, my mother had this habit of buying gifts, hiding them and then forgetting about them. She’d obviously bought this before the Alzheimer’s set in. I knew it was for me – it was a Purrfect Friends cat tile. It’s beautiful. I didn’t have long to linger over it as the crowd arrived to pick up Dave’s stuff. Then they were gone. Bebo and I put the last few things in our cars and I sent Bebo ahead so I could take a last look around the house alone. It echoed around me and in those echoes I could hear laughter and tears; in the rooms ghosts reached out to me. I stopped at the wall that separated the den from the kitchen. Resting my hand on the paneling, I stood for a moment. You see, when we moved in there, the paneling wasn’t on this particular section of wall. This was where my parent’s measured my growth with penciled lines on the wall. They were still there, underneath the paneling dad installed in the mid-80s. Stepping outside, I looked at the sidewalk my dad put in around that time, the sidewalk where he wrote our names: David (my brother’s step-son), James, Eric, Jenni Lynn and me. I said goodbye to the feral cats – especially Little One, the most friendly. Locking the house, I went next door to say goodbye to Gwen (having said goodbye to Debbie the day before). And then I got in my car, backed out of the drive and stopped at the sound of a shout. The man across the street stepped out from his garage and waved “goodbye”. The people on the corner did the same thing. Ernie on the corner called me over and I stopped. He said goodbye, gave me a hug and sent me on my way. I cried most of the way to the apartment. BooBear was still hiding – on Saturday he had found the bed and crawled under it, not coming out until dark and then back under Sunday morning. He was still under the bed, but Aidan was no longer hissing at Bubba. Bubba took the move just fine, exploring and jumping in boxes. Now a week later, they are all doing fine and adjusting to the constraints of the loss of running room.
I’ll tell you more about the move and the new apartment next time.
Well we’re here and we sorta have internet. This is the same problem that I was having before I moved. It’s the laptop, refusing to hook up to the router. It also keeps telling me that a network cable is unplugged? Huh? There’s no cable hooked up to it, nor has there ever been. Oh well. Also, at about 8:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. it refuses to hook up at all. When my money comes in from the house sale I’m going to have to have it looked at.
The move was traumatic for the cats. First, BooBear was closed up in the bathroom. Bubba and Aidan were put in the Master bedroom and then when the guest room was cleared out, they were moved there. Bubba does not like to be closed up in a room without a human, but we had to do it to keep them from running out the propped open front door. We made a couple of runs from the house to the apartment. We were so tired that we decided to get the cats, go home and then come back the next day to finish up. My niece and her husband were coming to pick up and store the things for my brother so we had to be there anyway. I took a last look around in the closets and noticed something way back on the shelf in the Master. It was a small box. I took it down, opened it up and cried. You see, my mother had this habit of buying gifts, hiding them and then forgetting about them. She’d obviously bought this before the Alzheimer’s set in. I knew it was for me – it was a Purrfect Friends cat tile. It’s beautiful. I didn’t have long to linger over it as the crowd arrived to pick up Dave’s stuff. Then they were gone. Bebo and I put the last few things in our cars and I sent Bebo ahead so I could take a last look around the house alone. It echoed around me and in those echoes I could hear laughter and tears; in the rooms ghosts reached out to me. I stopped at the wall that separated the den from the kitchen. Resting my hand on the paneling, I stood for a moment. You see, when we moved in there, the paneling wasn’t on this particular section of wall. This was where my parent’s measured my growth with penciled lines on the wall. They were still there, underneath the paneling dad installed in the mid-80s. Stepping outside, I looked at the sidewalk my dad put in around that time, the sidewalk where he wrote our names: David (my brother’s step-son), James, Eric, Jenni Lynn and me. I said goodbye to the feral cats – especially Little One, the most friendly. Locking the house, I went next door to say goodbye to Gwen (having said goodbye to Debbie the day before). And then I got in my car, backed out of the drive and stopped at the sound of a shout. The man across the street stepped out from his garage and waved “goodbye”. The people on the corner did the same thing. Ernie on the corner called me over and I stopped. He said goodbye, gave me a hug and sent me on my way. I cried most of the way to the apartment. BooBear was still hiding – on Saturday he had found the bed and crawled under it, not coming out until dark and then back under Sunday morning. He was still under the bed, but Aidan was no longer hissing at Bubba. Bubba took the move just fine, exploring and jumping in boxes. Now a week later, they are all doing fine and adjusting to the constraints of the loss of running room.
I’ll tell you more about the move and the new apartment next time.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Lasts, Part Two
First off, let me say that I am very excited about the future. I am by no means ignoring the things ahead of me. I’m just taking this time to say goodbye to something that has been a haven for me for the last 39 years. This is my closure.
So here are the lasts that I am happy about:
This is the last time I’ll have to struggle with the gate to the alley.
The last time I’ll have to struggle with the sliding glass door that is off its track and difficult because of the shifting foundation.
The last time I’ll have to worry about how I’m going to get the lawn mowed.
The last time I’ll have to deal with those ugly squiggly plant things that fall off of the tree every spring.
Speaking of the tree, it’s the last time I’ll have to deal with the web worms.
The last time I’ll have to put up with things not working.
The last time that I’ll have to watch a bad cable connection and not be able to do anything about it because it’s the lines my father split off from the main line.
I won’t have to clean a three bedroom, two living area, two bath home ever again.
No more messing with a broken garage door.
I have a fireplace, so I won’t have to freeze my butt off next winter because I can’t afford to run the furnace.
I won’t have to put up with those barking dogs next door. Don’t get me wrong, dogs are okay – it’s just these dogs I don’t like.
I won’t ever have to look at the mess that my neighbor has made of her home and yard. She’s a nice lady, but a bit on the trashy side.
No more cleaning the alley.
I can put the trash out whenever I want to.
So here are the lasts that I am happy about:
This is the last time I’ll have to struggle with the gate to the alley.
The last time I’ll have to struggle with the sliding glass door that is off its track and difficult because of the shifting foundation.
The last time I’ll have to worry about how I’m going to get the lawn mowed.
The last time I’ll have to deal with those ugly squiggly plant things that fall off of the tree every spring.
Speaking of the tree, it’s the last time I’ll have to deal with the web worms.
The last time I’ll have to put up with things not working.
The last time that I’ll have to watch a bad cable connection and not be able to do anything about it because it’s the lines my father split off from the main line.
I won’t have to clean a three bedroom, two living area, two bath home ever again.
No more messing with a broken garage door.
I have a fireplace, so I won’t have to freeze my butt off next winter because I can’t afford to run the furnace.
I won’t have to put up with those barking dogs next door. Don’t get me wrong, dogs are okay – it’s just these dogs I don’t like.
I won’t ever have to look at the mess that my neighbor has made of her home and yard. She’s a nice lady, but a bit on the trashy side.
No more cleaning the alley.
I can put the trash out whenever I want to.
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