Thursday, November 26, 2009
It’s turkey day and I’m not cooking! Well, that is nothing except the green beans. My daughter is supplying everything else. It feels great not to be chained to the stove today. Of course that might be easier than what I have to do.
The movers will be here at nine o’clock in the morning. I still have boxes to pack and things to put aside for Good Will. And I have to keep my cat, seventeen year old Jefferson, from going nuts in all these boxes. (See Jefferson above) But I'm sure he and I will make it. I hope.
Downsizing is not easy. My cat and I moved last January and thought I’d gotten rid of a lot of things, but I think they’ve somehow reproduced. When I moved from a fifteen hundred square foot condo to a twelve hundred square foot one, I thought I’d never be able to fit what I kept in. Now I’m moving to a 1 bedroom apartment (I had 3) and I’m stuck in a quandary about what to keep and what to give away.
In case you’re wondering why I’m moving down so drastically, let me explain. My son-in-law was a big builder and was in the process of constructing 3 developments, one which was to have 250 houses. After sinking a huge amount in these land deals, the crunch hit. Things were going great and suddenly he was bankrupt. My daughter hadn’t worked outside the home in ten years. She’s now back teaching school. To top it all off, my son-in-law suffers from Crone’s Disease and with all the stress it came back with a vengeance. I decided that they could use my help and I could use theirs because the stock market crash hit me hard, too.
They live in a big house and there are three rooms off to the side where he had his office and the activity room. Now the activity room is going to be my living room. His office is now my bedroom. There is also a bathroom. The area has its own private entrance. All this leads into the kitchen (which we’ll have to share), but that’s going to be easy to work out. She loves to cook and I don’t live the same hours they do. (For me getting up at six o’clock would be worse than torture.)
My two grandchildren – ages six and thirteen – are excited about me moving in. For some reason I have the reputation as the fun grandmother who they say is younger than their mother. (My daughter doesn’t like this comparison at all, but I love it.) They have been told that they have to knock on my door when they want to visit my part of the house. It remains to be seen if they’ll abide by this.
I know we all have a lot of adjusting to do, and this move may not be a permanent one. But it is an adventure that I’m looking forward to. At least it will be more feed for the writing appetite.
A mystery where the mother-in-law is knocked off with everyone at home and nobody finding her for a couple of days and ….
With all this, I'm still thankful for the many blessings in my life.
Wish me luck in this transition!