actually moving, day two
Sep. 27th, 2008 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ontologyI begin to think that every part of me that has got nerves in is aching, but before long I discover a brand-new place to be sore! On the bright side, my upper arms are toning rather excellently (they've been my problemest area in terms of flab I'd rather not have). Also I am rather ridiculously happy. This, again, may be due to the dose of caffeine pills I had this morning, without which I would not have been able to do much of anything. I slept terribly last night, despite being more exhausted than I can remember being since -- well, the last time we moved, I imagine. It seems that with every move I am required to lift more heavy furniture. Fortunately today we have many strong adult men loading, unloading, and carrying bureaus and headboards and bedframes and desks and trunks up the stairs (which are narrow).
But I'm happy. In the midst of a lot of physical labour, even, and physical labour and I don't get along well at all most of the time (neither of us are very keen on the other, I'm afraid). I suppose a bit of it is that I feel properly useful, or that I am doing something properly useful, instead of lying about brooding and eating far too much, and I'm getting things done and trying not to think about things I can't do. Could be the caffeine at work -- caffeine always gives me a bit of a high (but I wonder sometimes if it's less of a high and more of a normal feeling, except that I haven't felt normal and unclogged for so many years now that it feels like a high) -- but it could just be -- what? I don't know, I'm not going to question it. I love being happy. Although what I will love even more is when all of the moving bits of moving are finished with and we can get down to the business of settling in. The house is so lovely! It's the sort of house you want to decorate and organise (and keep clean). My closets (all four of them) are full of cunning shelves and nooks, and I've a ledge over the window, and cupboards on the wall near the ceiling, andandand.
I think it hit me at last, though, last night, about leaving the Rectory, and I was a little broody about it while trying to go to sleep (this took a while). I do love the Rectory terrifically -- it's been my favourite house to live in so far, and my favourite location as far as neighbourhood and surroundings go. I love lying out on the roof (and sometimes sneaking out onto it at night, to look at the moon or the stars or catch a bit of rain or breeze, or just to be gloriously alone), and slipping out to the hill behind the house, or down the block to the pond. I love having nature and what city there is to be found in our little town within easy reach. I love my large closet with the stained glass window and enough room -- as I've imagined in more whimsical moods -- to hide a fugitive in for a week or two. (Usually it was Remus Lupin. I kept him well supplied with sandwiches, cake, newspapers, and my tattered paperback Eliot.) I love having the church next door, hearing them singing from my bedroom, or wandering into my back-yard and finding my friends there, or hearing Father Mark rocking out on the accordion in his office, or accidentally running into parties, like the magical night of Alessandra's wedding rehearsal, when Father Mark had the Victrola on and everyone was waltzing -- including me, by myself, very inexpertly -- and there were candles and people and songs and laughter. But at least I'll be able to come back to this house often, and it isn't so very far to the hill or the pond.
And I am very excited about getting acquainted with this house. (I am also amused at how we always seem to end up in parsonages, rectories, and manses -- few of which have belonged to churches of which we were a part!)
Have stopped by the library, as it is about a five-minute walk from the new house, and am using a library computer to type this: their computers seem to be rather better than ours. Furthermore this one has Firefox. I am well pleased. And we likely have a crew coming to clean the Rectory while we're at church tomorrow morning: another pleasing thing. Most of my things are in my new bedroom, and I want so terribly to organise them, decide what things go on which shelves, make a little nest for myself in the closet that has a sort of seat in it, bang nails into the wall to hang my Victoriana message-board and my Waterhouse Lady of Shalott (my other pictures are already up, at least for now, there being nails left in), hang up curtains, re-paint the walls, make the bed, find places for the books -- take a nap. Listen to Lisa Hannigan. Read a good cosy book and enjoy the autumnery.
I learn many useful things in my frequent moving. Last year's lesson was: always have a book handy. Always. Fortunately this time I have my iPod, with all of my music on it and in my pocket, not to mention a lot of telly, and I have library books lying about too -- or did, until I dropped them off just now, but last year I got so bored during the lulls and late at night that I read a copy of TV Guide cover to cover, three or four times. (Mum had bought it for me as there was an article about the upcoming season of Lost.) My discman was broken, and I had stupidly packed all of my books -- every one, even my pocket Eliot -- and then the night Dad and I brought all sorts of things to the house and I unpacked a box of books and arranged them on the hutch of my desk (which I have always hated and have finally given up to Heidi through this move), and still I forgot to tuck one into my bag. Another lesson: pants and the sensiblest shoes possible, if you can. Shorts are nobody's friend when you are carrying heavy things. Also: caffeine is good. Caffeine is your friend. Caffeine may very well be your lover or your saviour or something, I don't even know. Right now caffeine is my very best friend. Without it I would be dead -- or at least look it.
And now I'd best get going. I am unsure as to when our computers will be in working order, but I imagine I will be sneaking over here frequently until they are, ha ha.
But I'm happy. In the midst of a lot of physical labour, even, and physical labour and I don't get along well at all most of the time (neither of us are very keen on the other, I'm afraid). I suppose a bit of it is that I feel properly useful, or that I am doing something properly useful, instead of lying about brooding and eating far too much, and I'm getting things done and trying not to think about things I can't do. Could be the caffeine at work -- caffeine always gives me a bit of a high (but I wonder sometimes if it's less of a high and more of a normal feeling, except that I haven't felt normal and unclogged for so many years now that it feels like a high) -- but it could just be -- what? I don't know, I'm not going to question it. I love being happy. Although what I will love even more is when all of the moving bits of moving are finished with and we can get down to the business of settling in. The house is so lovely! It's the sort of house you want to decorate and organise (and keep clean). My closets (all four of them) are full of cunning shelves and nooks, and I've a ledge over the window, and cupboards on the wall near the ceiling, andandand.
I think it hit me at last, though, last night, about leaving the Rectory, and I was a little broody about it while trying to go to sleep (this took a while). I do love the Rectory terrifically -- it's been my favourite house to live in so far, and my favourite location as far as neighbourhood and surroundings go. I love lying out on the roof (and sometimes sneaking out onto it at night, to look at the moon or the stars or catch a bit of rain or breeze, or just to be gloriously alone), and slipping out to the hill behind the house, or down the block to the pond. I love having nature and what city there is to be found in our little town within easy reach. I love my large closet with the stained glass window and enough room -- as I've imagined in more whimsical moods -- to hide a fugitive in for a week or two. (Usually it was Remus Lupin. I kept him well supplied with sandwiches, cake, newspapers, and my tattered paperback Eliot.) I love having the church next door, hearing them singing from my bedroom, or wandering into my back-yard and finding my friends there, or hearing Father Mark rocking out on the accordion in his office, or accidentally running into parties, like the magical night of Alessandra's wedding rehearsal, when Father Mark had the Victrola on and everyone was waltzing -- including me, by myself, very inexpertly -- and there were candles and people and songs and laughter. But at least I'll be able to come back to this house often, and it isn't so very far to the hill or the pond.
And I am very excited about getting acquainted with this house. (I am also amused at how we always seem to end up in parsonages, rectories, and manses -- few of which have belonged to churches of which we were a part!)
Have stopped by the library, as it is about a five-minute walk from the new house, and am using a library computer to type this: their computers seem to be rather better than ours. Furthermore this one has Firefox. I am well pleased. And we likely have a crew coming to clean the Rectory while we're at church tomorrow morning: another pleasing thing. Most of my things are in my new bedroom, and I want so terribly to organise them, decide what things go on which shelves, make a little nest for myself in the closet that has a sort of seat in it, bang nails into the wall to hang my Victoriana message-board and my Waterhouse Lady of Shalott (my other pictures are already up, at least for now, there being nails left in), hang up curtains, re-paint the walls, make the bed, find places for the books -- take a nap. Listen to Lisa Hannigan. Read a good cosy book and enjoy the autumnery.
I learn many useful things in my frequent moving. Last year's lesson was: always have a book handy. Always. Fortunately this time I have my iPod, with all of my music on it and in my pocket, not to mention a lot of telly, and I have library books lying about too -- or did, until I dropped them off just now, but last year I got so bored during the lulls and late at night that I read a copy of TV Guide cover to cover, three or four times. (Mum had bought it for me as there was an article about the upcoming season of Lost.) My discman was broken, and I had stupidly packed all of my books -- every one, even my pocket Eliot -- and then the night Dad and I brought all sorts of things to the house and I unpacked a box of books and arranged them on the hutch of my desk (which I have always hated and have finally given up to Heidi through this move), and still I forgot to tuck one into my bag. Another lesson: pants and the sensiblest shoes possible, if you can. Shorts are nobody's friend when you are carrying heavy things. Also: caffeine is good. Caffeine is your friend. Caffeine may very well be your lover or your saviour or something, I don't even know. Right now caffeine is my very best friend. Without it I would be dead -- or at least look it.
And now I'd best get going. I am unsure as to when our computers will be in working order, but I imagine I will be sneaking over here frequently until they are, ha ha.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 07:46 pm (UTC)Yay for moving in. And being 5 minutes away from the library.
I want your address. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 08:13 pm (UTC)You will really have to take lots of house pictures once you guys are more moved in, because I know your old house and now I need to be able to know where to picture you. :p Also, word of advice: if you're really serious about painting your walls, do it before you move much in to your room. It'll be much easier that way when your walls are actually accessible and you won't have much to cover with dropcloths except the floor.
And yes. Pants are good for moving. :p
Also, that icon could almost have been taken in Great Yarmouth, which I visited today. Very pretty.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 09:44 pm (UTC)The house sounded splendid and the library being nearby...! Libraries are one of the best things in the world, and I'm very grateful that mine is only a ten minute bicycle ride away.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 04:57 am (UTC)I am very glad that you've been as innolved and active in the moving process as you have been, and that your mood and attitude have been so positive.
The house is nifty. I want to spend time there with you *not* working, but I guess the problem is that people will be busy with things for a while. Sadface.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 10:17 am (UTC)Also, I'm glad that you're listening to Carousel! I saw the girl who sings part of it today, and it was too busy to say hi, but she's great. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 09:08 pm (UTC):)
Is the move continuing to go well? Hopefully there is sleep and rest to be had, alongside the good work?
no subject
Date: 2008-09-29 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-02 02:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-29 01:55 am (UTC)Moving away from your old house (which was very lovely, from the pictures I've seen) may leave you with bittersweet memories, but you'll make lovely new ones in the new home, I'm sure.