Not even going to apologize
I've been busy.
Wedding of the Year in Campbell River, BC, has successfully been held despite the lousy weather. Apparently, there are photos of a moose head and several people on bar stools but I'd gone to bed by then. There were heartfelt promises by two people who have some idea of what they're talking about. (I am more and more a fan of second marriages - the vows have some semblance of experience backing the sincerity.) There were kilts (Best overheard kilt moment: "What do you have on under there?" "My sweetie's lipstick!") and bagpipes and champagne (lots which was also enough) and cousins and rock'n'roll floor-clearing jiving and much, much joy. Yah and also HOO!!
Prior to that there was the sudden removal of The Jr Boy to the wilds of the wicked city for The Job of His Dreams. Sudden = 3 weeks from 'oh, what the heck' flingage-in of application to start date. Currently, he is couch-surfing and trying to figure out how to get back here to empty out his flat. I've got dibs on the empties and am charging 10% for everything I can sell for him. Anyone need a futon? a couch? a small carpet? All lightly sat upon.
And now I find myself a true empty nester. While The Jr Girl has been outtahere for several years and The Jr Boy has been living on his own for a couple of years, in my mind it was, hey, he's in town, y'know, and it's not like he was gone to Australia or Kalamazoo or Toronto or Lebanon. This is different - despite the facts that he essentially left town with two suitcases, a computer bag, his work tools, and a full iPod, and that he will come back to sort out his flat, he's gone. Moved. Away. Not Coming Back to Live Here in This House. It's a bit of a facer - on the one hand, I am thrilled beyond words for him on the other, it is really pushing me about Where I Want to Live MyOwnSelf.
I am mostly coping with this new thinking by going to the beer&wine stores and getting boxes. Empty ones! (stop sniggering you there in the back!)
By Christmas, I hope to have nothing in this house that is Someone Else's Stuff. So far, there have been 2 trips to the local thrift store, an overload on garbage day, several funny text/emails ("Do you want...?" "Hell, no, oh wait maybe..."), a call to a local shredding company and 9 boxes of SES packed out to the garage and waiting a trip to the storage locker (which SES pays for) on a day that is not p*ssing rain. (Srsly, September: you are NOT cutting it weatherwise and the local wineries and I would like you to get ON it! Of course, the irony of my kvetching about rain after the last post is not lost on me.)
The big challenge will come when I have to start dealing with My Own Sweet Stuff. Let's see, how many sofas does one small person need??
Still breathing
Wedding of the Year in Campbell River, BC, has successfully been held despite the lousy weather. Apparently, there are photos of a moose head and several people on bar stools but I'd gone to bed by then. There were heartfelt promises by two people who have some idea of what they're talking about. (I am more and more a fan of second marriages - the vows have some semblance of experience backing the sincerity.) There were kilts (Best overheard kilt moment: "What do you have on under there?" "My sweetie's lipstick!") and bagpipes and champagne (lots which was also enough) and cousins and rock'n'roll floor-clearing jiving and much, much joy. Yah and also HOO!!
Prior to that there was the sudden removal of The Jr Boy to the wilds of the wicked city for The Job of His Dreams. Sudden = 3 weeks from 'oh, what the heck' flingage-in of application to start date. Currently, he is couch-surfing and trying to figure out how to get back here to empty out his flat. I've got dibs on the empties and am charging 10% for everything I can sell for him. Anyone need a futon? a couch? a small carpet? All lightly sat upon.
And now I find myself a true empty nester. While The Jr Girl has been outtahere for several years and The Jr Boy has been living on his own for a couple of years, in my mind it was, hey, he's in town, y'know, and it's not like he was gone to Australia or Kalamazoo or Toronto or Lebanon. This is different - despite the facts that he essentially left town with two suitcases, a computer bag, his work tools, and a full iPod, and that he will come back to sort out his flat, he's gone. Moved. Away. Not Coming Back to Live Here in This House. It's a bit of a facer - on the one hand, I am thrilled beyond words for him on the other, it is really pushing me about Where I Want to Live MyOwnSelf.
I am mostly coping with this new thinking by going to the beer&wine stores and getting boxes. Empty ones! (stop sniggering you there in the back!)
By Christmas, I hope to have nothing in this house that is Someone Else's Stuff. So far, there have been 2 trips to the local thrift store, an overload on garbage day, several funny text/emails ("Do you want...?" "Hell, no, oh wait maybe..."), a call to a local shredding company and 9 boxes of SES packed out to the garage and waiting a trip to the storage locker (which SES pays for) on a day that is not p*ssing rain. (Srsly, September: you are NOT cutting it weatherwise and the local wineries and I would like you to get ON it! Of course, the irony of my kvetching about rain after the last post is not lost on me.)
The big challenge will come when I have to start dealing with My Own Sweet Stuff. Let's see, how many sofas does one small person need??
Still breathing
posted by Another Joan at 11:22 a.m.
1 Comments:
I might need a futon and/or couch... And I can certainly come and help you put things in boxes, or should you need a hug or a tea break... xxo
Amy
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