‘Tis the season… to meet the movers at the storage unit—watch them put all our worldly possessions into the trucks—hold our collective breath whilst the grandfather clock makes the journey—watch the movers empty the trucks into the new house—direct them where to put all the stuff—again hold our breath whilst the clock is situated—face the piles of boxes and wonder where to put all the stuff—fa la la!
Phew, just writing that made me tired and close to tears of exhaustion.
Believe it or not, we’re hosting Christmas dinner. You may be all agog wondering why we’d do something so insane. Well, I’ll tell you. Both of us want to hibernate. After the past six months of not having a permanent book on which to hand our hats we don’t want to budge. Not even an inch. For a few months at least. So we’ll hole up in our new nest and let people come to us. The kitties will be happy to not have their humans disappear for at least one day a week, too.
We’ll celebrate Festivus for the Rest of Us tomorrow by searching for the dishes, unearthing the flatware, and unpacking the pots and pans.
What are you up to this weekend? A mad scramble? Or a relaxing few days with a hot beverage and a good book? My, doesn’t that sound delightful?
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