Friday, June 30, 2017

Moving heaven, earth and house

"The key to traveling light is to not need very much."

It's beginning to look a lot like a real house. With planter boxes.
The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel is a faint glimmer.

I'm nearing the end of packing up my glass and selling what I'm ready to let go of.

There are still tools to sort, clean, pack or sell, plus pixie dust, leaf and foil, some dichro, random odds and ends.

And the big items, kiln, ventilation hood, maybe torch and oxycon (but probably not).

And believe it or not, I'm still working. I'm slowly using up all the short rods on my bench, the stringer, twisties, silvered ivory and murrini.

I've had to be a bit creative there. Beads of Courage has asked for five deep-sea-themed beads that will be carried on the USS Tucson submarine. Four will be sold in fund raisers, one will become part of a permanent exhibit.

All fine, except I had no blue rods left, nor ivory rods left. I scrounged through the detritus on my table and found enough pieces of blue stringer, some sparkly blue aventurine, a partial rod of a color called Supernova that is more purple than blue but close enough. I made five fun two-tone beads with lots of raised blue dots and some blue sparkle.

I'm calling them Deep Blue Sea Urchins. That's my story.

My goal now is to run down my tank of propane. I wish I hadn't bought another backup tank, but someone will take it off my hands. I think when this tank runs out, that will be my hard stop.

I've packed a lot of my beads, but I'm going to keep a couple of trays so I can keep selling beads, maybe for another month, at least through mid-July. Sales have been tepid with the occasional good day, so it's worth keeping on for now.

We ironed out the last details on the house, initialled the last change order, and with luck we'll be able to estimate progress soon and gauge the likelihood of an August closing.

Neil has ordered a pod to be delivered in mid-July. The pod company will take it to NC and store it there until we are ready for it. We have a second pod reserved in case we need it, which I suspect we will. We still have to organize the movers for the furniture and then there is the 1,100 mile drive with the three cats to look forward to. I may die.

No, it is what it is. I will blunder through it somehow.

My daughter put her house on the market and sold it the next day. Moving is contagious. Two of our four kids are in the throes of moving houses. Three if you count Chris moving out of Laurie's house into a place to live for his last six months of school. And Chelsea mentioned wanting to move into a new place even if she and her boyfriend stay in Austin for another year.

I'm so happy about Kandace getting what she wanted for her house, full asking price, cash buyers, a 45-day leaseback option. Now she and her Chris just have to find the right house for the right price to buy. The timing may be perfect for me to be able to give her some things for her new house that I've been saving for her.

Better yet, we may all be able to get together in Austin for a mini vacation in late July, if the house things fall into place as they should. My soul needs that.

It's all still somewhat dreamlike to me. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I still wonder if we really are doing this. That's partly because I'm not feeling all the feelings. I'm doing what needs to be done (for the most part) and waiting to see if another shoe will fall or not.

I suspect it will hit me (the feelings, not the hypothetical shoe) at some point, whether it be when we load the pod, when we sign the closing documents, when we peel out with the cats, when we finally lay down our heads in our new home, or sometime further down the line, when the new home stops feeling like a hotel or an airbnb.

I predict that if it doesn't hit me sooner, busyness will be a drug for a while as we unpack and settle in and get the stuff we need to replace the stuff we're ditching and to fill the extra square feet we're gaining.

To wit, new photos.

From the kitchen, looking through the living room with fireplace at left.
Our glorious utility room.Well, it will be a showcase when our wood cabinets, granite counter and sink are in.
Our dining room, with doors going out to our screened outdoor living area, and a view of our neighbors' pool.
According to our lender, our build is 68% complete. Almost 10 months from signing the paperwork, and two months until closing.

And just as if I'd planned it, we have reservations to be in North Carolina for the solar eclipse on August 21. That trip will nicely dovetail with our walk-through and pre-settlement orientation.

By September 1, we may actually live there.


Call the folks, leave a note, lock the doors and windows
Pack the truck, here's to luck, here's to how the wind blows
Got the cash, got the gas, now lose the map and compass
Now read the signs obey the lines, follow all your hunches
'Cause now it's just the open road
One small heart and a great big soul that's driving

Radio singing low just like a true companion
LA's lights wavy bright, they follow like a lantern
Then morning comes and desert sun rises like redemption
Another day to make your way from answer back to question
Out here on the open road
One small heart and a great big soul that's driving

No set of directions, no shortcuts
Just some empty soda cans, some cigarette butts
The key to traveling light is to not need very much

Late tonight you'll see the lights of a thousand stars above you
And at a roadside stop you'll call to talk to a voice
Back home that swears to love you
But at the sound of the tone you'll hang up the phone
And peel out of that joint
You might try again God knows when, at least they got the point
They lost you to the open road, one small heart
And a great big soul that's driving, driving
Out here on the open road
One small heart and a great big soul that's driving.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for your comment! I will post it as soon as I receive it. Liz