The journey of separating keep from toss, watching strangers collect my belongings and box them, those boxes going in a truck, a four-week waiting period in which my boxes and belongings moved between a few trucks and, for a time, did not go anywhere, has now concluded.
Boxes were unpacked, my things were moved into the house and this weekend I will be finding a place for everything, putting everything in its place.
I cried a little when I got home after work yesterday and fiancé, who had overseen the unpacking process, told me our headboard had been chipped, our bedside tables broken, the back of our bookshelf fallen off and our TV and couch gone missing. MISSING! Like, lost! He was surprised by my reaction.
“What did you expect?”
“Um, for our stuff not to be lost and broken?” I cried indignantly.
“Oh, I just figured with the moving and jostling our stuff would get here a little worse for wear.”
“Well I figured a professional moving company that has been doing this for years would have picked up a thing or two about not losing and wrecking their customers’ things!”
I threw my hands up at him and turned away; I needed to breathe out big and deeply before I could accept our losses and move on. (But you KNOW I’m going to go to town filling out claim forms!)
We went to bed with sore backs and aching feet after spending the second half of the day unpacking, moving, moving again to better suit the “flow” of the room as fiancé said, and tracking down the bed sheets necessary for a good night’s sleep.
When I woke up today, found my long lost housecoat hanging on the door rack, I walked to the balcony and for got about the past day’s frustrations. I spooned my Cinnamon Toast Crunch into my mouth (the taste not yet ruined by toothpaste) and looked out at the high sun shining down on the mountains and the valley below, where we live. It was a sight to take in slowly (I was almost late for work) but it made me so much more appreciative to be here, with our stuff (most of it) and together in the place we’ll call home when we get married. No more moving between houses, no more living out of a suitcase, no more cooking with other people’s pans. Just us, in our home sweet home in the mountains.
Us and maybe a kitten, fiancé told me today....

Labels: kitten, moving, Whitehorse