I started boxing up my things a few days ago in preparation for the epic journey. It's kind of strange how about eighty percent of my life is tied up in books. Awhile ago, I started trying to reassemble the more beloved books from my childhood, like Blueberries For Sal and The Sky Is Full Of Stars. When I started packing things into the first box, I realized that if I actually read about half the books I own, I'd be a really well read person.. the combination of things like Ovid and Chaucer is probably not that unusual, but throw in a few things like Dragonology and Good Faerie/Bad Faerie, and things start to become a little more tangled.
I've arrived at the conclusion that the ratio of boxes will end up being something like 2:1... until we start thinking about yarn.
So far I'm likely to end up with one box kitchen stuff, one box of clothes, four boxes of books, two boxes of yarn, and gods alone know what other impedimenta will manifest when it comes time to start loading the car.
The last time I moved, it was literally around the corner. I've lived in the same house for twenty-five years. The prospect of moving household to become part of another household is a little daunting, but I know the various parties involved will do everything they can to make the transition as smooth as possible.
The weather has also changed rather dramatically. The past week was mostly somewhere around freezing temperatures, but now its up to 70. I'm sitting outside as I write this, enjoying the sunshine and watching a single honeybee look for something appetizing. The plants are trying to bud, but I think they'll be in for a nasty shock when they realize it's still February.
A philosophical question has been tugging at my subconscious: At what point does something change from being "yours" to being "ours"? Is it a gradual shift in perception? Or is it something that happens all at once?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Zounds...
It's been entirely too long since my last post. Much has happened, though, so now seems as good a time as any. =^.^=
In January, shortly after New Years, we lost our beloved Dog. Suffice it to say that after a protracted struggle with degenerative arthritis, she's in Elysium now, chasing bunnies and running through fields, her ears flapping and her tail wagging.
On about January 3, Rasputin and I left for Vermont. After a couple of hiccups involving the unexpected demise of one of the front tires along the interstate, we reached his parents' house. We were exhausted, hungry, and stressed; his parents gave us a wonderful dinner of fried eggplant and salad and bread before letting us continue on our way home.
The original plan was that I was supposed to stay a week, during which I would do a bit of job hunting and we'd hang out with his friends and family while doing whatever it is couples do. And then the first snowstorm hit. I got a phone call from the airline saying that my flight was cancelled and that I could reschedule without any additional fees. It snowed... and snowed... and snowed... and.. yeah. The following weeks were conducted in much the same vein: the weather continues to conspire with someone--Rasputin, perhaps?--to keep me here.
I've been pleasantly surprised that, in spite of my expectation that one or the other of us would begin to suffer from Too Much Birthday, everything has been going beautifully. No fights, no arguments, no throwing of canned goods, and no trifling disagreements. We work well together and I feel that I've been integrated into a household and a routine in a way that's comfortable. I'm not a Stepford Girlfriend, which pleases me enormously, and I'm comfortable with the way things are. All that needs to change is my employment situation. There's a document preservation/conservation place here.. that's one of the places on my list of applications.
Much cooking, baking, visiting back and forth with Rasputin's parents, gaming with GURPS or other similar things (I'm getting the hang of it slowly.. I think), and now the addition of two new friends in the neighborhood is an unexpected bonus. Among other things, I finished the Earl Grey socks; he was so thrilled with them that he said, "You're awesome. My first pair of real socks!" and immediately put them on. I need to take a picture of the finished socks at some point, I guess. Next up is likely to be a pair of Glittens or some Dragon Paws. Note: This officially means I've succeeded in finishing my Yule knitting... a month late. And now I have several birthdays and a few more holidays to knit for. Ye gads.. Fortunately, I'm situated perfectly to take advantage of Webs and The Green Mountain Spinnery. Oh, yeah.. the Golding Spindle folks live practically next door.
There's a pair of octogenarians next door. And they like pumpkin bread. The wife is a knitter who's currently working on a complicated Aran sweater; the husband is an avid genealogist. This morning after Rasputin left for work--armed with a bento box filled with salad, rice, and some of his Cajun blackened chicken--I decided I wanted to make some pumpkin bread. I discovered, however, that we only had one egg in the house. It sounds very clichéd to go knocking on someone's door to ask for a cup of sugar, but that's pretty much what I did.. and I promised to return as soon as the pumpkin bread was ready. Which I did. And spent the next two hours chatting with the missus--she used to have Old English Sheepdogs and loves to read... I'll bet she's got lots and lots of interesting stories to share about all manner of things. Both of them, really. When I finally made my way back home, I came away with an armload of knitting books which were destined to be recycled.. including one from 1961. SelkieB, you're right.. there's nothing better than learning things with someone who's either very aged or very youthful. =^.^=
Assuming the weather cooperates, I'll be heading south next Wednesday. And in the spring sometime, I'll be packing up my books, yarn, and other important gear (pens, ink, laptop, and cat) and moving.
Zounds... It's daunting.
In January, shortly after New Years, we lost our beloved Dog. Suffice it to say that after a protracted struggle with degenerative arthritis, she's in Elysium now, chasing bunnies and running through fields, her ears flapping and her tail wagging.
On about January 3, Rasputin and I left for Vermont. After a couple of hiccups involving the unexpected demise of one of the front tires along the interstate, we reached his parents' house. We were exhausted, hungry, and stressed; his parents gave us a wonderful dinner of fried eggplant and salad and bread before letting us continue on our way home.
The original plan was that I was supposed to stay a week, during which I would do a bit of job hunting and we'd hang out with his friends and family while doing whatever it is couples do. And then the first snowstorm hit. I got a phone call from the airline saying that my flight was cancelled and that I could reschedule without any additional fees. It snowed... and snowed... and snowed... and.. yeah. The following weeks were conducted in much the same vein: the weather continues to conspire with someone--Rasputin, perhaps?--to keep me here.
I've been pleasantly surprised that, in spite of my expectation that one or the other of us would begin to suffer from Too Much Birthday, everything has been going beautifully. No fights, no arguments, no throwing of canned goods, and no trifling disagreements. We work well together and I feel that I've been integrated into a household and a routine in a way that's comfortable. I'm not a Stepford Girlfriend, which pleases me enormously, and I'm comfortable with the way things are. All that needs to change is my employment situation. There's a document preservation/conservation place here.. that's one of the places on my list of applications.
Much cooking, baking, visiting back and forth with Rasputin's parents, gaming with GURPS or other similar things (I'm getting the hang of it slowly.. I think), and now the addition of two new friends in the neighborhood is an unexpected bonus. Among other things, I finished the Earl Grey socks; he was so thrilled with them that he said, "You're awesome. My first pair of real socks!" and immediately put them on. I need to take a picture of the finished socks at some point, I guess. Next up is likely to be a pair of Glittens or some Dragon Paws. Note: This officially means I've succeeded in finishing my Yule knitting... a month late. And now I have several birthdays and a few more holidays to knit for. Ye gads.. Fortunately, I'm situated perfectly to take advantage of Webs and The Green Mountain Spinnery. Oh, yeah.. the Golding Spindle folks live practically next door.
There's a pair of octogenarians next door. And they like pumpkin bread. The wife is a knitter who's currently working on a complicated Aran sweater; the husband is an avid genealogist. This morning after Rasputin left for work--armed with a bento box filled with salad, rice, and some of his Cajun blackened chicken--I decided I wanted to make some pumpkin bread. I discovered, however, that we only had one egg in the house. It sounds very clichéd to go knocking on someone's door to ask for a cup of sugar, but that's pretty much what I did.. and I promised to return as soon as the pumpkin bread was ready. Which I did. And spent the next two hours chatting with the missus--she used to have Old English Sheepdogs and loves to read... I'll bet she's got lots and lots of interesting stories to share about all manner of things. Both of them, really. When I finally made my way back home, I came away with an armload of knitting books which were destined to be recycled.. including one from 1961. SelkieB, you're right.. there's nothing better than learning things with someone who's either very aged or very youthful. =^.^=
Assuming the weather cooperates, I'll be heading south next Wednesday. And in the spring sometime, I'll be packing up my books, yarn, and other important gear (pens, ink, laptop, and cat) and moving.
Zounds... It's daunting.
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