And In With The New
Moving is hell, let no one say otherwise. On the first morning in our new home, the kitchen looked like this, as seen by my phone, which just wants to be a phone, and not a camera. Nonetheless, I coerced it into documenting just what a mess our life had become, in the space of only 24 hours.
We’d had the foresight to set out the coffee grinders, but the espresso machine wasn’t yet in shape to brew up our morning cup of contentment.
Cooking is utterly out of the question when you can’t even find a wooden spoon. The dining table was still at the old house, but fortunately, what we did have was boxes, and donuts for Shel, and nuts for me.
And so hey presto, breakfast was had on a box. Actually, it had a certain charm. Some of the hundreds of boxes were especially mysterious, especially early in the morning.
It was definitely too early for the bar, especially a bar serving cat food. And was there an app for that? What on earth was the mover thinking when he labeled that box?
Since the front yard looked like this on the day we moved in, the cats definitely weren’t with us anyway, being safely sequestered and pampered at their favorite kitty camp. And really, who could complain about the front yard, when the back yard looked like this?
And so, off to days and days of unpacking, which, through the miracle of time-lapse reality, shall soon be complete.
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