Moving On

And so we moved.  Out. Away. Somewhere else.

It was a stormy departure as moves mostly are.  Packing up all your earthly possessions—even to move them just a few miles away—whips up gale force winds of change.

In addition, we agreed to let our buyers do some exterior work the last week we were in the house.  But the scope of the project was either vastly misunderstood or seriously misrepresented and we spent our final days packing in a construction site.  Funny how the sound of workers yielding pickaxes and backhoes all around you makes you feel anxious and unsettled.

Even before the jackhammering started, the unexpected uprooting began.  A month earlier, the buyers reneged on their promise to be flexible around our move date and since our new place wasn’t available for a couple of weeks beyond the end of our contract we faced an unforeseen period of homelessness.

But then I shared our predicament with a long lost friend over lunch.  Miraculously, she just happened to need a house/dog sitter for the exact period we needed refuge.

So for the past ten days we’ve had a lovely suburban vacation with a friendly old Lab who likes short walks.  Here are a few shots from my morning constitutionals with Chipper.

Golden Hills in all their glory.

 Two well-camouflaged deer make their way through the grasses and up the hill.

Purple clematis cover the fence of a nearby yard.

One of the neighborhood’s many English cottage garden designs shines in the sun.

How fitting for the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee.

Chipper is obviously thrilled for the queen!

Soon enough I’ll be surrounded by boxes, wondering where in the world I’ve put my best black T-shirt and my Felco clippers.  But for today, I’ll take in the thwap-thwap of women playing tennis next door during my morning swim.  I’ll work on my daughter’s wedding invitations before meeting friends for dinner in a nearby new-to-me bistro.  And I’ll continue to toss out the anger and frustration over our buyers’ insensitivities in order to make room for the gratitude I feel for this calm, beautiful eye in the middle of our Moving Storm.

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Kathryn Pritchett

writes about Things Elemental — where we find shelter, why we connect, what sustains us and how we strut our stuff.

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