Moving Day

Much of our life got boxed up, the rest sent off to Goodwill or the dump or the undecided pile. Since November 2013 we have been on the move, downsizing each of the three times, to this, our first, almost official, tiny house. Plenty of decisions about what we still need or want in our lives. Decisions about what is officially junk or worth selling. Decisions about what can fit and what is functional. Decisions about aesthetics. Decisions made while washing the dishes or doing errands or half in the doorway while leaving for work. Decisions on the fly. Moving day is upon us and decisions rule the day.

moving1Do you ask friends to help you when they volunteer repeatedly? After our first big move, from Inn to apartment, each location with multiple staircases and just too much stuff to bear, we decided that was an imposition we could never ask again; so instead, discovered a local and fabulous company of handy movers who were more than happy to lug our overly packed boxes. Friends are lifesavers worth saving for celebrations and anniversaries and birthdays or to console you through your sorrows, but not to move boxes of books.

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Now, a few short days after the big day, we are still unpacking (which is why this is not a proper blog post); but I will share a few preliminary pics to show off the new space. Still arranging and rearranging, thinking about art placement, all the homey touches, but here’s a sneak peak!

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The house is passive, causing only a minimal footprint, so every interior inch is precious. Of course the expansive view, as many Vermont locals provide, is one that showcases a bright blue sky and shouts of Autumn color. Feeling lucky, feeling blessed, feeling like this will be a wonderful home once we settle in.

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Move Ahead

A goal. A destination. A purpose. Life is filled with markers for all of us, from birth to death we move along a continuum of time, looking for meaning. In the beginning, unconscious or conscious, we encounter a string of firsts. First word. First step. First big tumble. First day away from mommy and daddy. The list goes on and on, seeming to stretch far into the milky way with possibility. At least that is the idyllic version we all hope for in life, that doors keep opening while our drive pushes us higher and higher along our projected paths.

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Mother Talks: #1

Although a fabulous pretender my mother was not a fly by nighter: she was a planner. In August we planned our Christmas gathering, at Christmas we planned our summer reunion. While I begin the task of emptying her scarf drawer, winter closet and filing cabinet, I see that some of her plans weren’t as rock solid as I once thought to be, but compared to who I was at say 15 or even 26, I can state for certain she got me to look forward and plot out a life worth looking back on. My mother usually began our random solitary talks quick to the chase by asking, “What’s your five year plan?” On first hearing, her question was as alien to me as reading Mandarin, maybe even more so.

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