Monday, July 3, 2017

Fare thee well, June. Thou wert rough.

Good people, we are looking at only 18 days left in this old house (that looks fresh and fit as a fiddle with its GORGEOUS new roof...it's very flaunty, right now).  In the meantime, there are boxes to be attended to every day (5 boxes a day keeps the mental breakdown at bay!) 

I'm trying to space out the packing by figuring out a handful of boxes every day, but most of them are a modestly-sized Amazon box and it comes in spurts.  Por ejemplo.  Today?  No boxes.  Why?  Because I got lazy and felt icky this afternoon.  And the boy worked on a few, so I felt like squelching on to his handful and calling it a day.  Honestly, most of the not-really-using-right-now stuff is packed, so we're down to the it's-gonna-have-to-wait-another-14-days boxes for the crunch time maneuvering. 

And it's been remarkably peaceful and unhurried and calm, the packing part at least.  The rest of June was a HOT, HOT MESS.  There were pre-planned 2 camping trips, a pre-planned 3-day synod assembly, 3 different classes to start/continue/finish, the funnest of the summer library activities, gymnastics, swim lessons, visiting the new school, muddling through money-money meetings, looking-finding-dithering-calling people-calling people-calling people new house garbage, and running to attend to.

Some days, they were a trial.  But we're still here, all drama aside.

We surely did make it to July, or as I've been looking at it, the Promised Land

I have big plans this month:
1.  Consistently work on my Sunday crosswords before Friday.
2.  Read two books.
3.  Plan out the entire school year (maybe just the first 2 weeks).
4.  Figure out what to put in "the living room" in the new place so that "the living room" doesn't become the receptacle for odds, ends, and sundries.  This is a thankless task that no one else in this house will help me with.  I feel adrift and refuse to get sucked into Pinterest's clutches.  Good people!  Do help.
5.  Feed my family something other than tuna salad, egg salad or hummus sandwiches.  We cannot be sick of those before school starts.  I will weep salty, salty tears if my children won't let me send those to school f-r-e-q-u-e-n-t-l-y because know what?  The Elder doesn't like peanut butter.  Someone's gotta be the kook.

But this cleaning and packing thing has been so good for my soul.  I love that we have at least half of the house packed and more empty boxes than full ones yet in the garage because we try hard to avoid accumulating stuff.  I was surprised at the warm fuzzies that I got a couple of times when I stumbled upon some kept notes from good friends and The Boy.  I realized that it was time to let go of some more stuff from our wedding with no regrets.  I appreciate the ruthless quality that makes me reconsider every single thing I start to pack in a box, evaluating whether it is worth the time and effort to move it.  If it weren't so expensive, I would move every few years just to go through this part. 

So on to a new month.  May it be merciful and kind.  And, may we dig our toes in the sand one more time before facing the new school year head-on. 


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