Getting Moving

Well, the time has come. My good friend and resident rumi is moving out at the end of this month. There are many ways that I will miss her – but I won’t go into any embarrassing details about it here – not today, anyway. What I want to talk about is much more mundane than that.

As my rumi begins the process of packing to go, I have begun the process as well, albeit internally. It’s true that I have quite a bit more time than she does – I won’t need to move before June of next year – but I have begun thinking about it just the same.

I have moved frequently in my life, first as an Army brat and later as an adult. While living in Colorado, my father joked about his address book and how many crossed out addresses he had for me – in 10 years, he had 9 addresses. That was just how I was living, and mostly it suited me. I was proud that I could get everything I owned into my Blazer.

In Colorado

And then, in September 2002, I bought a house.

My cute little house

It’s cute, right? It isn’t a very big house – when I first moved in I had two completely empty rooms and none of the other rooms were particularly full, either. That is how it started, anyway. The house has gone through a number of permutations since I moved in. My current roommate was also my ex-roommate – she and I lived together for about a year in 2004-2005, I think. Somehow it seemed a good idea to me at the time to give her the tiny downstairs room – although now that seems almost criminal to me. In my defense, I had never used it as a bedroom before she moved in and feel I can honestly say, I had no idea how small it was!

I moved my stuff out of that room into one of the empty-ish rooms upstairs and life was good (for me, anyway). Then, in 2006, I got married and out went the roommate and in came another adult and two teenagers. Woah. Things got somewhat cramped, but it was still pretty ok. While we were together we moved the bed downstairs, then upstairs as the teenagers moved about. Then, we got divorced and lots of stuff went out of the house. Next, the rumi moved back in and this time I took the downstairs room. Did I mention that it is small? I attempted to get all of my stuff into the downstairs – thinking of the time coming up when I would need to move again.

All those other times in my life that I was moving around, I really didn’t own much stuff. Really. The biggest thing I owned was my mattress and box springs, and that was only the last few years before I bought the house. Now, I own furniture. Big pieces. A chair and a half, a chaise lounge, a treadmill. What am I going to do with all this stuff?! Some of it I am ok with selling or donating. But there are some things that I really want to keep. And as I consider my trek across the country, I wonder about the U-haul, how big, how much will it cost? Can I tow something behind my car, or is it better to rent a truck? Of course, many of these questions remain totally unanswerable right now, mainly because I have no idea where I will be moving to. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t on my mind.

Yesterday as I managed the food from my CSA I headed out to the freezer to put up some lovely red onions I was freezing for the future – and stopped and stared.

My freezer is nearly full right now. Yes, it is true, a good section is taken up by the bags of ice I bought for my bonfire in August (who’s idea was that again?), but besides that there is quite a bit of food in there. And while I like to claim my inner She-ra as much as anyone…

…I’m pretty sure I cannot lift it. Let’s say I could move it. No matter where I go I will likely end up in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment (with a large dog). Where would the freezer live?!

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