Last day at the beach house was Sunday. (Chicken Betty, this one's for you)
Contrary to popular belief, chickens actually can fly. Right after this photo was taken, Edie caught an updraught and promptly 'flew' off the deck, wherein I actually uttered the phrase, 'Well, there goes my chicken.'
Monday was MOVING DAY!!! Definitely going in the top five of best days of my life.
This is the new homestead!! It's a little rough around the edges, needs a little (maybe a lot) of work, but we couldn't be more excited. The moving truck full of our stuff which has been in storage since last August showed up right on time Monday morning. Once they left, it was like the biggest Christmas day you can imagine as I was going around opening up all the boxes and getting reaquainted with all of my precious belongings.
Now being a good little crafter, what do you suppose was the first few boxes I went for, after I'd located some bedding and a few kitchen items? That's correct, my crafting supplies. It was like I was some sort of junkie who'd hidden bits and pieces of my heroin stash in many many boxes. It took me a couple of hours yesterday, but I finally found everything (most importantly my knitting needle rolls...I had only brought two pair with me, though I've since bought two more sets as I was inspired and needed tools) and gathered it all up in one room. Not that I plan to be doing a whole lot of knitting mind you. The last two nights, at around nine pm, my body says, 'ok, you're done' and I quite literally collapse in a happy, tired, sore little heap.
The thing is that this house also has an apartment attacted to it. The apartment is all brand new and it looks like the previous owners, whomever they were, lived here while they too worked on the house, which unfortunately, they never got to finish. So we're picking up where they left off. The apartment is small but cozy, and for the time being, we're going to live with just what we need and keep the rest all packed up until we finish the work we want to do. Other than our clothes, the tv, kitchen stuff and linens, I felt my crafting supplies were absolutely essential and it was paramount that I have easy access to them. Thus my entire day was consumed with making sure that happened.
With the exception of a few cheap bowls that we weren't broken hearted over, everything arrived intact. There were a few things that I was praying to the almighty would survive the long haul unscathed; my antique table (inherited from my grandmother), my antique dishes (inherited from my mother), my guitars (not antiques, but I love them like they were) and my kitchen table and chairs (also not an antique, but something I'm very sentimental over). So far, so good. Haven't quite checked out all the boxes of kitchen items, so there may still be some glassware that didn't make it, but every one of my antique dishes is blessedly undamaged. I was so excited to be reunited with them that I couldn't bring myself to put them back in a box.
I thought the dishes might like to hang out in here for a while, get a feel for the place.
While I slaved all day lugging boxes around, drinking the occasional beer in the middle of the day and rockin' out to the only radio station I've found in this area that doesn't suck, the constable went to Canadian Tire and spent the ENTIRE DAY! I think perhaps even more than, say, getting into your first fight, playing your first game of hockey or your wedding day, this may be the final rung on that great ladder to manhood. He said it took all day cuz he was waiting to get approved for a CT credit card. I think there was some sort of secret ritual involved, something akin to the Free Masons where they take you blindfolded into the back room and initiate you into the proud and ancient home-owning/tool-buying brethren. That's also where they tell you how they get every Canadian Tire to smell like that. It's like tool pheremones or something.
In any event, when he did come home all aglow with his purchases like he'd gone on the hunt and brought back his kill for me to cook up, he promptly completed his second home improvement project so far.
He put together a wheel barrow. And then took me for a ride in it in our backyard!!
Whee!
It's funny how your definition of sexy changes over time. When I was young, very young, too young to know what sexy really was, I had a crush on the prince character from the Smurfs. I think his name was Sebastian, but that may have been his annoying sidekick. But I liked him because he had a Brittish accent. In my five year old mind, that may have been sexy.
In my teen years, dark and brooding was what I was after. In my twenties, if you could play a guitar and make me laugh, I was putty in your hands. Monday afternoon, it changed again. My husband fixed the toilet in the apartment. It may have been the sexiest thing ever.
Needless to say, Monday was a big day as we not only moved into our new neighbourhood, but also met some of our new neighbours.
Unpacking stuff in the apartment, I looked out the window and there it was! Like twenty yards from the house.
And then there were two!! These suckers are really good at camoflage too. If you're not looking for them, they're very hard to see.
So it's been a good couple of days.
Until later...
