I have become a very bad, very lazy blogger, and I apologize.
If it helps, I have been really really busy.
There has been much organizing and packing and cleaning. And then a bunch of unpacking, organizing and cleaning.
And then school started.
To bring you up to speed, here are a few things that I have learned over the summer:
I make packing much harder than it needs to be, but Phil does not give it the consideration it deserves:
It’s a good thing I had 4 weeks off work to pack up our house, because it took me about 3 1/2 weeks to do the job. It turns out my packing style is…frustratingly slow. I stand and stare at the pile of collapsed cardboard boxes, picturing what I am planning on packing and trying to figure the best size/shape of box to pack it all in.
When I have completely conceptualized the packing process of that one box, I pluck it out, put it together, tape the bottom, and…realize the box is much too small for what I had in mind.
So then I would sit and stare, and try to decide what I could put inside that smaller-than-imagined box, or try to select a more appropriately sized box for the items I already had planned out.
I would then pack it with Tetris-like precision, maximizing space and efficiency, carefully label it with the room and general contents, and stack it with the other boxes for that room.
I like to think I was…methodical.
Phil thought I was insane.
He would grab the box closest to him, tape the bottom 3 times, toss in whatever he could reach without getting off the couch and shove it in a corner.
The Price is Right is incredibly addictive when you’re unemployed:
Maybe the reason it took me so long to select the perfect box, was because I was constantly distracted by the next contestants on the Price is Right.
And then I would have the stupid Hoveround theme song stuck in my head all damn day.
All deck beers are not created equal:
One of our favourite things at our old house was sitting on the steps on a summer evening and enjoying a beer. We would lift our faces into the setting sun, listen to our neighbour bitching about something, watch the magpies assault the passing cats, and get bombarded by swarms of mosquitos.
And deck beers was one of our favourite things.
In our new place we sit, in chairs, on our balcony. We watch the passing hipsters, listen to the sounds of laughter from up the street and are largely ignored by the mosquitos who are too busy chasing after the hipsters.
Deck beers have gotten significantly more enjoyable!
An old cat does not deal well with change:
When we started packing up the house, Maverick was weirded out and he got nervous when we pulled out the suitcases. By the time we loaded him into his carrier and drove him to our new home, he was freaked the fuck out.
He wouldn’t come out of his carrier for hours.
Then he hid under the couch (which he had never, before, been able to even fit under).
Then he wormed his way through the stack of boxes and junk in the storage room to the farthest, darkest corner and hunkered down for a couple of days.
After a few days, he started to scope out the new digs, skulking around, sniffing the place out. Now he’s comfortable enough to fall asleep in the middle of the floor, and the cars driving past don’t scare him too much.
Though he did hiss at the washing machine the other day, but laundry really is scary, so I can’t blame the little guy.
A small taste of the Fringe only makes me want more:
Because we were so busy with the move at the exact same time that the Fringe was on, we only managed to set aside 2 days to take in some shows.
We managed to see 8 plays, and they were all so good. The improv was hilarious, the scripted shows were entertaining and thought-provoking…even the mimes were enjoyable (though Phil may disagree with that one)! But my absolute favourite show of the year was a re-telling of Of Mice and Men as performed by clowns.
And I hate clowns!
But instead of that small taste satisfying my Fringe craving, it just made me want more.
You can count on me making up that deficit at next year’s festival.
There is such a thing as too much Carly Rae Jepson:
I fell in love with, sang the shit out of, and then grew increasingly irritated with Call Me, Maybe.
How was your summer?