So the move is ‘complete, and by complete I mean almost everything I own is in boxes and has been moved from my ‘old’ home to my ‘new’ one. To make things more confusing my ‘old’ house was not that old, we bought it new 8 years ago, and our ‘new’ house is not that new, as it was built in 1913.

Moving was hard, back breaking and at times it pushed me to the edges. One of the days we were packing and shuttling all our stuff to the new house it struck me just how impossible it is to move well. You just can’t do it. The combination of the physical strain of sorting, wrapping, packing and lifting all your earthly belongings and the emotional impact of uprooting yourself is the kind of high proof cocktail that you regret indulging the next day.

At some point, maybe it was the evening we moved a truckload of stuff in the pouring rain after packing for twelve hours, I found my sense of humor about the whole thing. It’s not supposed to be easy and so you can either laugh or cry. Either way… it is what it is.

The thought that entered my mind at that point was how important it is in life to make memories. To live your life in a way where there a times that are memorable. So each day doesn’t just fold into the next. I can say without a doubt, this week I made memories.

So now I am in this great big old house. I’m getting to know it. There are a lot of little things that need to get done. It seems like I’m always walking around the house with a screwdriver in my hand, but I am really enjoying it.

The first real triumph of the house was when I was able to pry the windows in my office open. They had been painted shut with several layers of paint. A putty knife and a lot of patience and I had these two beautiful windows open to the world.