the great un-move. [part eins]

Matt and I have experienced five complete household moves in five years of marriage. There is a reason I specify “complete.” Most of them have been chaotic, all of them hurried, and none of them pretty. I would consider us to be good movers, and what I mean by good is that I mean we can get the job done quickly and completely. It may take us forever to unpack and put away and set up a home again, but when it’s moving day, it’s go time. Everything leaves it’s current abode to find itself in a new one before sundown. An item may not end up located next to anything relevant or alike and we may not find it for awhile, but by golly it is going to arrive intact. Somewhere. Moving happens inside of one 24-hour period.

Matt’s mom frequently relays the story of one of their moves that unfolded much the way all of ours always have; one of their dear friends, shown up to help them move, threw in the butter dish with a load of miscellaneous household items. Upon unpacking they discovered that yes, he had packed the butter dish. Complete with the stick of butter, along for the ride.

The jist of it is, Fevergeon moves are practical. Practical and effective. Just not always the organized process my mind, body, and emotions crave. At the end of our moves, I have usually dissolved into a puddle of tears. While unendingly grateful for the faithful show of help from family and friends, I always feel a bit undone myself, because when everyone leaves and we’re getting ready for the first night in a new place, I can hardly handle the fact that the garlic press is mixed in with the snow gear and the dog leash ends up in my underwear drawer. My mind tweaks out over the process of trying to find some semblance of order when there is none to be found. Every unpacking escapade feels like starting over from scratch. Where do I want this? The office or the living room? Do we have any storage this time, or are the bikes going in the kitchen? Where is the underwear drawer?!

This time, I swore it was going to be different. And dadgummit, I was serious. After my last day at my job at the college, I had three weeks to make use of before the first day of my new job. And so it began. Moving escapade #6.

I grouped like things. I made lists of what to do first, what would come next, and the process consisted of starting packing things we needed the least, ending with things we used the most. My plan was that by moving day, everything would be packed, and once we got into the new place, we would simply go backwards, unpacking the things we used the most and ending with the things we needed the least. Everything that was similar would be packed together. All rugs. All picture frames. All candles. All bedsheets. All kitchen paraphernalia. All shoes. All books. None of this room by room stuff. If it was a picture frame, regardless of the room it came from, it went in the picture frame boxes. Then I grouped all the like boxes together. Then I made groups of boxes. This was going to be an organized, logical moves, folks.

Nothing was simply tossed into a box, hoping it would survive because it was braced with, say, couch cushions. No. Everything was individually wrapped, carefully placed, taped in the appropriate box and boxes were labeled with sharpies according to where that box should be delivered once unloaded from the moving truck. This is what I was hoping for – order and reason! It was a thing of loveliness. What a pack-job to behold. I used all of the time I had to prepare.

Good morning, moving day. We awoke after having been packing until the wee hours of the morning. And husband was sick. He awoke with a terribly junky cough, a heavy chest cold, a stopped up nose, and a splitting headache. Off to the walk-in clinic he went! Back he returned with medicated cough syrup and instructions to rest! Uhoh. I encouraged him to rest and urged him to take it easy because, LOOK! Almost everything is ready! Can you believe it? It’s organized and ready! We just need to move it all to the trailer… OH, and go pick UP the trailer. And pack up the kitchen…

Matt’s parents arrived, along with my two brothers. While Matt picked up the uhaul trailer, the other guys began moving the (organized and strategically placed) boxes from their groupings in the living room out to the backs of the pickups, loading up whatever they could, in every nook and cranny, until the trailer would arrive. Joanne and I hit the kitchen, carefully wrapping glassware, and slowly but surely all the cupboards’ contents began settling into boxes. Matt returned with the trailer, the boys filled it up to overflowing, and everything was tied down with fishing nets. It was early afternoon and we were ready to take our first load into the city to the house. We had almost all of our belongings in this load. Only a few items remained- the piano, basic foodstuffs, and our bedframe would hold down the Mukilteo fort until load #2. Off we went!

Have I mentioned the heat? Seattle was in the midst of a heatwave with record-breaking temperatures for the city. Traffic was slow. After all, our move was so pleasantly occurring during SeaFair 2009. We watched the Blue Angels’ daredevil maneuvers while we sat idling on interstate 5 on august 1st.

Matt and I talked about our feelings toward everything that was changing for us while we sat in the pickup. My tumultuous experience at my previous job had finally come to an end. I had a new job in the heart of the city that I’d always wanted to experience. We were moving into a new house in a favorite Seattle neighborhood. I would have a 5-mile drive to work and Matt would enjoy the benefits of commute north, opposite of the thick traffic. Gromit would have a grassy yard to enjoy again. We’d have creaky old wood floors and walk down the street for happy hour at a cute little pub. We’d walk to pick up Thai food on nights where we didn’t have time to cook, and we could be at Gasworks park in a 10-minute bike ride. We would finally be a short drive away from the church we were growing to love, rather than commuting the 45 minutes that we had been just because we wanted to be there. We were going to have a Seattle address! The packing had been stressful, and leaving what you know as “home” is assuredly bittersweet, but those feelings were tempered with all that we knew was just ahead. It felt hard, but good. We were not 100% convinced we would love all the changes, but it felt exciting and it felt like it was only apprehension and fear that was holding us back from embracing it. It felt like what we were doing was the right thing to do, and that if we were nervous, it was because we weren’t trusting what we knew to be true- that this was right.

We finally eased off the freeway, and drove the couple of blocks up to our new front door. The landlord was waiting, I sat in the front seat and wrote the check, and Matt hopped out to take a quick peak inside before we unloaded. I followed him in, looking around to refresh my memory of all the details of the house, and my heart sank when I looked at Matt. We made eye contact and somehow I knew we were both feeling the same thing- our efforts to convince ourselves that we were excited and happy were falling short and the apprehension was winning out. Everything was different in the house today, and likewise, everything all of a sudden felt different in our hearts. We were afraid and we knew it.

[to be continued].

the entry that has been long in coming.

i know, i know. my posts lately have been amiss. in fact, there have been no posts lately. in order to avoid this place becoming a poor excuse for a blog, i intend to remedy the situation. by posting more often. maybe there will be a whole lot of nonsense before there is something meaningful, but the fact remains that at least it will be something.

and with that, i outline my explanation (to follow in subsequent posts) of where i have been and what i have been up to in my blogging interim. in other words, life over the past few months.

1. the great UN-move
2. shots to the palate
3. the new job digs
4. sex + money
5. life in the living: someone broke his foot

you should obviously, by now, be thoroughly enticed. (insert sarcastic emoticon).

something new.

"for I am about to do a brand new thing. see, I have already begun! do you not see it? i will make a pathway through the wilderness for you to come home. I will create rivers for you in the desert!"

i am being provided a new path, a new way to walk in. basically, i feel like i'm being rescued- scooped up from the flower pot i'm in, to be transplanted to a different garden. at first the soil was moist in my little pot, but it's become dried out and parched. i feel like i'm going to be replanted in a bed of balanced soil, where my roots can stretch out a little bit and be revived.

i've been offered a new job, in a new place. the mister and i are looking for places to rent in the city. we are full blown seattle-bound, and along with that, bound for a more peaceful state of mind.

i feel surrounded by entangling weeds, yet i know i just have to make it through another week in my current pot. the new flower bed is being prepared!

"The LORD who made you and helps you says, "my servant, do not be afraid. My chosen one, do not fear. for I will give you abundant water to quench your thirst and to moisten your parched fields." "

is.

i know that amongst the little things, HE is there. in the frustrating doldrums, HE is there. in the hours that feel so mundane they make me want to scream, HE is there. on the days where i lose sight of the goal, HE is there. on the days i stumble, HE is there. in the "hopeless" situations, HE is there, offering hope. in the midst of absolute chaos and utterly overwhelming stress, HE is there. in my sighings, in my pleadings, and in my rejoicings, HE is there. in my waiting, HE is there, and in my impatience HE is there. in my silence, HE is there. in my absence of creative thought, HE is there. both in my skepticism and in my trust, HE is there. in my waking ups and my laying downs, HE is there. in my tiredness, HE is there. in my confusion, HE is there. in my regular, in my ordinary, HE is there. in my wonderings, HE is there.

...and so in all of this, i know HE is here.

a haven; 2x2

two times in the last two days, my eyes came across a verse. it was the same verse, in two completely different places, that i read in unrelated ways, and neither time was i seeking it out. i know HE brought my eyes across it; HE brought it to my eyes to graze over. and it soothed my spirit. both times.

yesterday i read it on a blog i keep up with.
today it was emailed to me by a dear friend.



then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble
and HE brought them out of their distress

HE stilled the storm to a whisper
the waves of the sea were hushed

they were glad when it grew calm
and HE guided them to their desired haven.

psalm 107:28-30

when ducks come to call

today we had webbed-footed visitors. mr and mrs mallard were out nosing around in the standing water (leftover from this morning's march blizzard) on the first hole of the golf course. i spotted them and promptly went out to stand on the back patio, hoping they would remember me from last fall (THE ONE WHO FEEDS YOU BREAD, MALLARDS!) and grace us with their presence once again.

it only took a moment. i shouted, "ducks!" the boy duck zeroed in on me from clear out on the green, and waddled at a remarkable pace straight my way. girl duck continued to look for worms. i lost boy duck from my line of sight when he disappeared behind a small knoll in the lawn, then i saw his blue-green little head as he crested the top of the rise. i had rushed back inside in the meantime to grab half of a leftover loaf of frenchbread we had with dinner a few nights ago. i made it back just in time as he came to a stop in the middle of our yard.

i tossed a few chunks of bread. he stuck his neck down low and ambled toward the first large piece. then he did like ducks do, and abruptly shook his little head up and down, to and fro, as he downed the delicious snack. he continued to quack at me, low and deep, while i broke off more pieces of bread and tossed them his way. with each bite, he moved closer and closer.

his faithful companion soon joined us, and he sweetly shared the pieces of bread i threw her way. (last season he was more selfish). she was more standoffish, keeping a watchful eye on the jealous crows that were hiding in the bushes.

once their stomachs were filled, they tarried a bit and just quacked at me some more. i stood very still and quiet and marveled at their beautiful colors and his dashing, curled tailfeathers. i went back inside and they moved over to a big puddle in the yard to hunt for worms. what is bread without some meat to go with it, anyway?

i affectionately refer to them as "our ducks." i'm happy they have returned.

randomz.

we do not have casual fridays at my job. i wish we did.

someone just walked by my desk with a serious non-expression on their face, singing in a flat, deadpan tune, "it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood... a beautiful day as your neighbor...", the end of which trailed off into a deep, grievous sigh. it was too depressing for me to not laugh loudly.

i had to rifle through my purse this morning in the car to find my sunglasses, buried at the bottom. living in the seattle area has turned me into a mole. the sun is out today (HAVE I MENTIONED THE GLORIOUS SUN IS OUT), and i keep taking cautious gazes out my window, because this exceptional novelty (sunshine) has me squinting and screwing up my face as my pupils adjust to the bright, bright light. that is sad.

i have a better track record today in terms of not spilling things on my desk. last friday i spilled water (twice) on my keyboard and mouse, and coffee once. i soaked many post-it notes. my keyboard worked until the following day when it went kaput. so, i have not spilled on my new one yet. this is good. i keep my lids on now.