Saturday, September 16, 2017


Our housemate moved out a week ago, and I'm still trying to get the house back together.  Any change, whether it takes place in our portion of the house or not, is still unsettling, and she and I had lived here for 17 years.  Before that, we were roommates in my 20s and early 30s, so even though the changes has been a while coming and is the right thing to have happened, it's still difficult to get used to.

We're empty nesters, more or less, and I didn't expect to feel like that.

But on to what I wanted to say, rather than what I haven't quite figured out how to talk about yet.  I had to undecorate the halls so the movers could get furniture out without damaging my stuff, and that's when you realize how much stuff you have.  I took 70 things off the walls, and then had to pull 70 accompanying nails -- because you don't want the movers to get caught on them, of course -- and now I'm patching the holes.

Because what I've decided to do is to not completely redecorate.  We're going to be moving ourselves in the next year or less, and partly I feel like there's no point in putting it back up to have to take it all down again, but the other, more pressing thing is, watching her move was a learning experience for me, and I want to have as much of my excess out of the house before the move as I can.  There's no way I want to move it all to a new house and then realize it doesn't fit.

So things are going to go back up on the wall slowly.  With deliberation.  I've gone through all the piles of artwork and odds and ends that were hung and I've chosen all my favorite pieces, the ones I know I'm going to keep.  I'll place those, and then I'll go through the remainder and find some pieces that work with the ones I've rehung.

The rest are going.  Really.  They have to.  There's no way in hell I'm going to have another house with a 3-story, high-ceilinged stair hall to decorate.

If I do, I need my head examined.  Someone please remind me of that fact if I show up here one day talking about my new BIG house.

Right now it's both oddly quiet and strangely noisy in the house.  Quiet, because there's no one upstairs, and noisy because without things on the walls to absorb some of the noise, every single sound echoes.

It's like the house is telling me it's time to move on.  I'm listening, really; these things just take time.


Valerie said...

We're preparing for a cross-country move and just had our first yard sale--still so much to sort through. And we've already taken several loads down to our new state! I hope you find a wonderful new home, with gardening and chicken space galore!

Karen said...

Thanks, Valerie. It's a process, isn't it? You never know how much stuff you have until you try to get rid of some, and then it just seems to multiply when it's exposed to air. Good luck with your move as well.

tess tea said...

Wishing you well. I don't envy your moving.
Empty spaces are so echo-ey.
I dread to think what we have packed away in all the dark corners.

Karen said...

Tess, some of it isn't even in dark corners! I found things lurking in plain sight that I'd forgotten. The thought of tackling the attic and the cellar . . .