Moving day was crazy. Moving day was made even more crazy by the fact that it took place over a week and a half, and for awhile, we were living in both places, and I thought my head was going to explode with the sheer confusion of it all.
At this new house (also known as OUR house) we have a three car garage. It is completely full of out stuff. Okay, fine, it is completely full of our crap. Is this really necessary? Do I need all this stuff? I already did the if you haven't worn it in a year, take it to good will run, along with the would you die of embarrassment if Judge Fill-in-the-blank saw you in the grocery store in this run. There are blankets and knick-knacks (oh God, the knick knacks. You know who they all come from? My mother in law. She firmly believes that downsizing means giving it all to us, because she cannot bear to throw it away herself), there are pots and pans, there are NO MATCHING PIECES OF FURNITURE. None. Not a single one.
I will also admit to a moment of panic today. It was the panic felt by someone who has lived closer to the downtown area of a city, where there are lots of young people and bars. Today, I sat on my emerald green lawn with Telly. I looked to the left and saw kids. I looked to the right and saw kids. I looked straight ahead and saw kids.
I decided, for the sake of my sanity, it was better if I didn't turn around.
They are everywhere here, like the weeds did back at our old house. Their parents all stand outside, watching them play, gossiping, drinking wine, fliping their hair, and touching their strands of pearls. Okay, I made up the part about the pearls, but it doesn't seems unlikely.
Is simplifying our lives at odds with this neighborhood? Have we sold out? Should we have fled towards a nice, small condo in the city and sold most of our stuff?
Kids are the plan eventually (See Grace. See Grace run! Go Grace go! Grace? You can stop now!), and I think kids require lawns (check). And dogs (check). And other kids (check, check, check, check).
So, we shall simplfy in other ways. Like refusing to take any more kinck knacks. I mean it.