No, not that. (Tangent: I have not read any of these books, nor have I seen the movie. Does it live up to its hype?). More like we've been in sort of a twilight zone. See, we spent the whole weekend moving. Into this!
If you read my blog at all, I posted a few times over the summer about us finding a house and making an offer on it, only for it to fall through. That happened twice. One lovely commenter reassuringly said that, "Don't worry, third time's the charm!" Well, what do you know, she was right. This time everything worked out, and now we've ended up with the house of our dreams. Seriously. It was built in 1907, has 14' ceilings, and has pretty much all of the trappings and amazing character of a late Victorian home. It has all the room that we'll ever need, and we love it.
And the kitchen! The kitchen, people, is what I've always wanted. Our previous kitchen left much to be desired. The new kitchen is still full of unpacked boxes, and it's killing me that I haven't been able to fully use it yet (Christmas cookies, anyone?). I'm dying to bake or cook something. Anything. Now I actually have the room to make anything that I want! 10 dozen cupcakes? No problem! I've got more counterspace than I know what to do with! Can you tell that I'm thrilled? I am entertaining the idea of turning this blog into more of a cooking blog, starting from the very first thing that I make in our new kitchen...
Anyway, back to our twilight zone. Otherwise known as moving an entire house full of stuff to another house. I counted, and I've moved almost 15 times since I turned 18. I'm 28, so that means I've moved 15 times in 10 years. And even then, with all of that moving under my belt, I still forgot how painful the whole process is. Sort of like childbirth? I don't know. All I know is that by the end of Saturday, straddling both worlds by having half of our belongings at one house and the other half at the other house, I broke down in tears because all I wanted to do was go to the store to buy detergent. Detergent. For some reason I felt that everything would be made alright and the new house would feel like home if only I could get my hands on some detergent and do some laundry. My husband just wanted to shower and go grab dinner, and I was so exhausted and emotional that I just started crying, that all I needed was some detergent. "We can't go out to dinner! We have to make this new house clean and good and ours," I sobbed to him. God love that man, I'm sure he thought I was going crazy. He convinced me that basic hygiene and eating a meal were more crucial at that point than washing a load of laundry. And of course, he was right.
But the boxes! And the bags! The funny thing was, we had packed the whole week prior, and thought we had made decent progress; we would only need our friends to help with the big furniture. But then we realized we hadn't packed up the pantry. Oh, and what about the refrigerator? The freezer? Oh my gosh, the upstairs den. It was never ending.
But despite the stress and the exhausting days, it's all worth it. We're so excited. It's a new start. :) Stay tuned for more pictures...and maybe the start of a brand new cooking blog!