As you know, last
week I moved house. Since last Wednesday I’ve unpacked most of my kitchen (and
put away about 80% of it), have nearly all my books put away, and can see floor
in a few of the rooms in the new place. The new water heater is in place, and
the USPS letter carrier is delivering stuff (mostly come-ons from mortgage
insurance scammers who obviously troll public records) to the mailbox that’s
sitting on the ground because I don’t have concrete bits for a drill.
Or a drill.
But a couple of things that
aren’t necessarily Great Progress have inspired my gratitude today.
My first glass of champagne in
the new place:
My coffee machine was packed
in its original carton, so I could have latte my first morning in.
I found enough bits and bobs
to lay out the tablecloth, placemats and napkins that my BFF gave me years ago,
and I sat down to dinner at my candlelit dining table. I cannot tell you how
wonderful it feels to be able to do that again, after living in a cavern for
the past year.
Congratulations!
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