baa baa black sheep



9:53 a.m.

Still unpacking, still trying to get arranged. There's something truly daunting about getting all your stuff arranged in a way that's not awful when you move from a big house to a tiny house. Sometimes I see all the boxes that still need to be unpacked, and the general clutter and messiness, and get so overwhelmed. So overwhelmed J tells me to eat ice cream. But I think we're making progress.

Sunday night and Monday (by myself!) I painted the basement (den), bathroom (no more pink), living room, and kitchen. (Also, our air conditioner went out for a while. Also, the high here today is 95 and the high in Wyoming where we lived is 79.) (Also, I never want to paint another room ever again.) We also rigged up a Sketchy Showering System in our showerless tiny tub. The carpet is completely cleared off the basement floor, and I've gotten all tetris-y and crazy in my arranging of the kitchen. The bedroom is basically done, except for some art I want to hang, the bathroom is done. The kitchen is nearly done, the dining room is almost done, except that the dining room closet is where I will have to hang my clothes (don't ask) (tiny house!) so the door is still blocked by my mountain of attire.

Mountain of attire!

That should have been accompanied by a trumpet fanfare.

So things are slowly coming together, even though I am tired and sick of dealing with it and I got a cold (I hate you, summer).

Sometimes I get that nauseous, wild feeling of unfamiliarity in this house and town. I wasn't happy in our old town, and am happy we are here, but it had become familiar. I knew it and I knew people and I knew how the sky would look and how to get to the library. When I was pulling out clothing yesterday I could smell our old bedroom and had waves of oh-geez-where-am-I wash over me. When this happens I feel trapped and a little desperate, I feel as if I have been turned upside down and shaken around and gotten all disheveled and need to claw my way out of these walls and run to somewhere I know. These feelings come crashing into me every time I move, even in moves across towns, and I know they will subside over time as I get used to our new place. I will find my own favorite spots and things will become less confusing and they will become my normal. One day I will say, "Let's go home" and mean this house.

I'm glad we're here. Every day I like the house a little more. It's a good little house. I think this is a good little town.

black sheeped


Blogger Marie Green said...

Well, getting settled, especially in a small town, is not easy. There are less public places to meet people, less places to go just to get out of your house.

And the unpacking. Ugg! Sounds like you've made tons of progress on a hateful job! What colors did you paint? I think we need to see pictures!

How are the pets? Your cats especially are probably loving the adventure of new space to explore, boxes to hide in, etc. Hope they are doing ok!

Summer of crazy is almost over!

11:54 AM, August 15, 2007  
Blogger Mommy Daisy said...

It sounds like you are settling into the new place nicely. I know what you mean about moving to a different area. It was hard for me when we moved here to a bigger town (bigger than what I was used to at least).

11:57 AM, August 15, 2007  
Blogger Swistle said...

We call that nauseous, wild feeling of unfamiliarity the "can't find the toothbrushes" feeling: when Paul and I moved to a new place, I left my toothbrush in a motel on the way, so our first act in our new town was to go to a drugstore to find a new one. And the aisles were all unfamiliar and I didn't know where to look, and I burst into tears.

12:15 PM, August 15, 2007  
Blogger Artemisia said...

You have gotten more done in the four days you've been in your new home than I've accomplished since I moved in with A. two years ago. I suck, you rock.

I don't have moments of panic, exactly, but I do feel really disoriented when I move somewhere new.

One morning shortly after I'd moved to DC, I woke up early and saw the sun rising over all the high-rise apartment buildings. Because of the pollution, the sky and air were really orange.

I thought I was on Mars.

I am not exaggerating. I really thought I was on another planet. It took a full 30 seconds for me to figure out I was in DC looking out my bedroom window. That was, well, REALLY WEIRD.

Even now, three years back in L-town from DC, I catch myself thinking that if I walk down Grand and turn south I'll be able to walk up 14th Street, NW, in DC.


Hang in there. Home will find you.

1:37 PM, August 15, 2007  
Blogger Flibberty said...

Having just moved from Montana to Illinois, I feel you on the whole weather change thing. Even if it was 105 in Montana, it didn't make you gag like you were being choked by a swamp. Here, it's 82 and I want to throw up. I am impressed with your paining though, and wish we had gotten our act together and bought a house instead or renting an apartment until we "get a feel for the area."

9:20 AM, August 16, 2007  

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