MONDAY
Yesterday at 7 am my moving company gave me two hours notice that they moved my day up. Then they showed up two hours and forty minutes late.
This morning they’re already 35 minutes late. I’m working on patience.
Yesterday afternoon they got about a third done. They’re doing a great job. I have some beautiful wooden pieces of furniture that we bought in Austria. Each piece is being wrapped in quilted padding and taped within an inch of its life.
Right now I’m sitting outside at Starbucks having a cappuccino. The weather continues to be just beautiful as it often is after a tropical storm. A bit cooler and lower humidity.
The swirling emotions I felt while packing up are at bay now. I’m just ready for it to be done. I miss Gracie and Frankie. I want to hike and bike and experience fall.
And at this point I’m looking forward to planning my new abode. My realtor and I meet with the builder/architect on Friday in Brevard. I’m sure the months of waiting in a tiny condo will get old and I’ll get frustrated and irritated. But right now it feels like a new adventure. We never built a house. We never even built an addition. Our rental house in Germany was brand new and we were supposed to design the kitchen. I told the landlord I wanted one just like our next door neighbors. That horrified him. Huge cultural differences. But I had no interest in designing a kitchen.
So now it’s Monday night. Moving team is great. Their company support sucks. So we won’t be packed til Tuesday about 2 pm.
TUESDAY
I called the moving foreman at 6:30 am. He was groggy with sleep. I’ve been up since 4 am so I was chipper! And probably really irritating.
I had three lovely conversations as I was leaving St Pete. The first was with my hair dresser. She’s about 35 years younger than I am but we’ve always been on a similar wave length and I just love her. We drank a bottle of decent red wine and solved the world’s problems. I’m sure we’ll remain friends.
Today I met up with a friend who told me she’s fallen in love at 75. I, who think I’m a hedonist, encouraged her to pursue it. I told her about my sexy email guy and I don’t regret it.
Tuesday evening I had a toast to my move with my next door neighbors on both sides. I will miss them fiercely.
FRIDAY
I arrived home to Brevard yesterday afternoon. The drive through Carolinas is always lovely - trees with turning colors, the rolling hills and crisper temperatures.
I listened to Elizabeth Strout’s Lucy by the Sea, about a recently widowed NYC author who escapes the pandemic with her ex-husband to Maine. Strout is a great writer and the book acutely brings back losing Bob and dealing with the pandemic alone, making the drive poignant. Driving to my new life feeling exhilarated and reliving my grief and loneliness. It feels like two and a half years is the perfect time for me to move on.
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Wow! Just stumbled upon this . . . I haven’t been able to focus on much lately (except at work), but this really grabbed me. Well done.
I have loved reading your posts, Janet. I’m more of a ruminative stick-in-the-mud and your energy to keep making your life what you want inspires me! Re: your drive — I love it when I read/hear just the right thing at the right moment like the Strout book for you. When that happens, it always feels like the tumblers clicking into place.