Sunday, 31 July 2016
All day we had friends, coworkers and associates through. Some stayed for a little while and others stayed for a long time. It was so great to reconnect with people that perhaps I have been ignoring in my stress induced packing haze. I felt like Vanna White as I showed multitudes of people through our home. *Arm waving gracefully* “And this is the Kitchen…”
The one thing I can take away from my house warming party is the love and affection that I felt to my very bones. Even though I had been a tad distracted and self-focused over the last couple of months, my friends still loved me and were genuinely happy for me. I have the best friends. We laughed, we drank and we had fun as we sat out back on my beautiful new deck. Darkness crowded in and still we had people. I lit candles (much to the amusement of my Dad who thought it was too warm for candles – but sometimes men just don’t get the necessity of ambiance) Overall it was a great weekend, surrounded by love and laughs.
Yesterday we went to Toronto (again) on the search for a room for Thing 1 to live in while in college this September. First let me rewind. Last week we spent Wednesday looking for apartments / rooms. What a waste of time, energy and gasoline. Although spending the day with my kids is never a bad thing…looking at rooms that ranged from skanky to Skanky to SKANKY didn’t help with my separation anxiety. The one room looked like there should have been a number of murders in the space. Concrete walls, squishy stairs to a dank basement. Two hot plates plugged in behind the hot water tank. AND the kicker…she opens the door to show us the bedroom and the guy renting it was asleep in the bed still. Yes, you heard me right she showed us the room while someone was still there. Ugh. I shuddered with disgust for a half hour afterwards. As did Thing 2, while Thing 1 told us to “Stop being such girls” We came home…frustrated, scared and unsure how to proceed. And I was more terrified than ever about my Baby Boy moving to THE CITY. But I foraged on…and last night we drove back for another viewing. This time the house was aged, but clean. The landlord was nice but not creepy nice. The room was big enough and bright enough. There was drywall on the walls, and actual flooring on the floor. It was close to the college and close enough to where Thing 1 hopes to work. It was at the top of his budget – but not over budget (unlike many of the questionable places we had seen) Overall a win. We should be signing the lease tonight. And boy am I happy. Not happy that my kid is going away but happy that we have a place for him to go to. He won’t be living on the streets or couch surfing.
Deep breath, Mama bear is maintaining her calm. Managing to accept that this is the way things are meant to be….this, the moving out is the natural progression of things.
Now that our house warming is done, rooms are set up and found, I have spent some time in my office. And boy oh boy do I love it. Yesterday morning I was in there with my tea in hand editing away. It was wonderful. So hopefully soon I will have some new stuff out there and ready to go but until then I soldier on.
Enjoy your day
Tuesday, 19 July 2016
We moved last weekend, going from our huge semi with a garage and unfinished basement that allowed me to collect (aka hoard) lots of great things that I *might* need in the future to a small bungalow without a garage and the basement is finished (so no storage). What a transition. We had the prerequisite garage sale and purged like you wouldn’t believe prior to the move and I still had too much stuff. Today Mr. Gloria makes the final trip to the dump to rid ourselves of the last of our excesses.
We moved a week ago and I am proud to say that I am now completely unpacked. All my pictures are hung, decorative items are out and on full display. Furniture is where I want it. I will admit I love moving, the unpacking is a great joy (mostly) for me – I love discovering the beautiful things I own again.
So with the unpacking came a revelation. We have a huge rec room / office space. A 15 foot long wall to house our books. I happily instructed my Dad where I wanted the seven foot tall shelves and then started loading them up. I gleefully filled shelves with my favourites, remembering fondly the stories that these tomes contained. All my Katie McKalisters, the Steven Kings, Mercedes Lackeys, Patrick Rothfusses, Brent Weeks and the Charlaine Harris’s. I relished the memories of my favourite characters, Talia, Nadine, Christian, Joy and Roxy not to mention Kvothe and Sookie… I spent long moments caressing their well-worn covers and thoroughly enjoying the sensation.
Then about 2/3 of the way through the multitude of boxes I came to a shocking stop. I was out of room on my shelves…and me with 1/3 of my beloved books still to be put away.
What’s a bibliophilic to do? Cry? Scream? Leave them in boxes? God forbid but…Purge? That possibility receives a resounding NO! We do not get rid of books, that would be akin to throwing away old friends. And we love our old friends dearly. So, I bought more book shelves… and the best part – they aren’t quite as full as they could be so I can buy more books
Wednesday, 6 July 2016
You know I always thought that the idea of sleeping less as you got older was a myth. I really did. I am now, and have always been a night hawk. It isn’t unusual for me to see two a.m, often even later than that. I always needed my alarm. Without the inevitable buzzing I would sleep until noon. Without fail. Sometimes even later.
Lately however – like since I turned the dreaded 4-0 I’ve been waking up early. Without my clock. I can’t seem to sleep past 9, no matter how late I am up the night before. Some days even earlier! Last weekend I woke up just before eight *gasp* and there was no going back to sleep. (on the weekend!!)
I really didn’t expect this of me, and anyone who knew me in my younger years (my god I sound like I’m a senior citizen here) anyways they would be shocked. I could sleep through all alarms, including the fire alarm, without stirring. The Great Sleeper, who slept like the dead. Deeply and long, with great pleasure. I had a serious affair with my bed. A true, deep, lifelong love. And now I could care less. I’m apathetic. I have fallen out of love with my bed. It just doesn’t do it for me anymore. I’m shocked. I still long for the incredible emotional attachment I had with slumber.
At this rate I will be able to go without sleeping at all by the time I am sixty. Think of all the stuff I could get done…I could write, I could binge watch all the television shows I could possibly want, I could turn my bedroom into the dream library I’ve always wanted. (Although Mr. Gloria might have some issues with that – I am pretty sure he has some uses for the bedroom that don’t involve sleeping)
I’ve discovered all sorts of things that happen in the a.m – farmers markets, garage sales, a peaceful visit to the grocery store, the quiet on my back deck as the birds chirp and awaken. So many things I never expected. So much beauty in the morning.
My creative juices have also shifted, no longer writing until the middle of the night – I find myself more productive in the morning hours. What the hell is happening to me? Maybe aliens have actually taken over. Either way, I guess it is time for me to accept the things that I cannot change. To adjust my life to being a morning person. To accept the challenges that come with a lack of sleep. To accept that I am growing older and that this is a fact of life. Wow. With my lack of sleep comes a level of maturity I also find shocking. Perhaps I will become easy going, a go with the flow girl: accepting everything…nah. That’s pushing it too far.