The movers came, the movers schlepped, the movers worked hard, they nicked walls, they damaged only one piece of furniture, and they left us with our boxes of possessions all over the house, mostly in the correct rooms.
We unpacked, to a minimum level of acceptability, our bedroom. We worked until late and then went out for -- margaritas. Well deserved re-hydration.
The next morning came with no hot water in the house. Someone had turned the furnace off, kindly meant, to not burn oil without the need. I turned the furnace back on and promptly it filled the furnace room with smoke and fumes. Service call one. The oil company. Hot water was restored, bodies were washed. Happiness returned. Ten hours of unpacking later, the kitchen was done. Kitchens take a lot of time to unpack. No question about it. In the meantime, deliveries came and went and our house became fuller still.
Friday, my father came to help. He made us a little bit crazy but he was a huge help. The kids' bedrooms were done and the den and living room were unpacked, the book shelves were adjusted, and the books were put away. Cable was hooked up so we had television again.
Saturday dawned with a trip to Stew Leonard's for pick up 1.5 lbs of jalapeno poppers. That's all we ended up eating for the whole day, as it turned out. The playroom was unpacked. The gym equipment was delivered and assembled by experts. We worked until the wee hours getting everything as finished as we could.
You should see the garage. In fact, I will take some pictures so you can see how we turned a spacious two car garage into a place where boxes were sent to die. My garage is the elephant graveyard of moving materials.
Sunday, the children came to their new home. I was promptly informed, and then regularly reminded by the Girl Child, that if it "was too hard" for her at the new house, her grandparents said she could move back with them.
Yesterday, first day back at the office and lots of catching up to do.
Today, too gruesome for words at work. Oh, and my wife has left us. You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille! Jetted off to Cinncinnati. Business, she claims. But we all know what a garden of temptation Cinncinnati is. Who knows what she's doing there.
I told the Girl Child last week that when her mother went away, we could stay up late and do something fun, just the two of us. Last night, after I said good night and turned off her light, she said, "Pappa, I am sooo excited about tomorrow night!" Yay for me! I'm going to hold on to these moments as long as I can!
Another thing I'd like to hold on to? When I tell the Boy Child that I love him, in Norwegian, "Glad i deg!", his response back, "Goal die!" is too precious for me not to savor.
Finally, the kids are excited by the deer. They have seen the deer and like them. Me? I have seen the deer and concluded that, much as pigeons in the City are rats with wings, deer are rats with antlers and big ears.
More to come later.
Thanks for all the good wishes on the prior post! You all are the best!
Posted by Random Penseur at August 2, 2005 04:30 PM | TrackBackKind-a-sorta back to normal? Or maybe creating a new normal.
Either way, we missed you.
Posted by: Wicked H at August 2, 2005 05:52 PMSo glad to see you back with good things to say about the move! It gives us hope for ours that's coming up sometime next week. Best of luck as you continue to settle in.
Posted by: Mandalei at August 2, 2005 06:34 PMWelcome home.
Posted by: Amy at August 2, 2005 07:33 PMAs you know, your children are precious.
; )
(A word of warning about the deer. My four-year-old was *attacked* by a *pet* deer raised by a family in our neighborhood. She's okay, but she could have lost an eye or worse. Warn the children: As docile and tame as they may appear, they are wild animals!)
Posted by: Christina at August 2, 2005 09:07 PMCongratulations on the move! What does "Goal die!" mean?
Posted by: Angie at August 2, 2005 09:17 PMGoal die? Sounds like a hockey chant. ;-)
Glad things are coming along in the new place, RP.
Posted by: Jim at August 3, 2005 06:19 AMSorry about the confusion. I should have been more clear. Glad i deg (pronounced like: gla e die) is I love you in Norwegian (as said to a child and not a lover). Goal die is how the Boy Child says it back to me, how he pronounces it.
Posted by: RP at August 3, 2005 09:11 AMCinci, eh? I'm afraid I must inform you that your wife is a closet rocketeer. You see, this is the week that the National rocket contest is happening - in Cincinnati. And why else would anyone *choose* to go there?
You're a lucky man. 'Cept for the deception part, of course. Be patient and understanding with her.
Posted by: Ted at August 3, 2005 01:50 PMI thought "I love you" was "jeg elsker deg" i Norsk. Maybe that's why things never even made it to 1st base with the one Norwegian girl I ever tried to woo...
And jalapenos and margaritas for moving day meals? Dang, RP, just what kind of Yankee are you? You sound more like a Texan.
Congrats on the new house. I'll have to send you a picture of my two-car garage, which still looks like an elephant graveyard 4 weeks after our move-in.
Sorry about this, John, but I have to tell you that in that instance you were correct. Jeg elsker deg is I love you in the romantic sense. It is exactly what you'd say to a lover. To a child, however, you'd say Jeg er gla i deg. So, I can't let you walk away thinking it was the language thing.
What kind of Yankee am I? One who used to call New Orleans home, my friend.
I'll be happy to swap pics!
Posted by: RP at August 3, 2005 08:56 PMI miss a lot when I'm in bed for a few days.
Glad the move went fairly well. I love the comment about the garage. We had to have the city here do a special "bulk pickup" and included a six pack with it.
Next time anyone heads to Ohio, let me know. I might actually be able to meet up. Cinci is only an hour and a half from me. Not a big deal at all, unless I'm not feeling well.
Posted by: Linda at August 4, 2005 12:18 PMWaar zijn de beelden? (Dutch - sorry no Norwegian)
Where are the pictures?