Moving Day Is Approaching

We are moving in twenty days.  An outside observer would be able to tell that something is amiss.  This inside observer and person who is actually living in the turmoil can definitely attest to the variety of ills caused by moving. 

The garage has become a boxy cavern.  There is one narrow path from BP's door to the kitchen door.  To the right and left are walls of boxes, both packed and waiting to be packed, a pile of odd-shaped things that won't fit into boxes, four rapidly filling garbage cans, an island of unformed boxes, and my kayak.  My kayak is loaded and in position to be pulled out so I can escape to the river where there are no boxes.

We feel the need to remind each other not to use the coffee table in the livingroom.  The glass top has been wrapped and boxed.  So when BP put his cell phone down, it kept going down.  We're a little nervous that someone will try to put their coffee down.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we don't need any tools.  They're packed away in the garage somewhere.  We do have another tool kit in the kitchen with a place for every tool and all but one tool in its place.  I sure hope we don't need the pliers.

Meals are now planned around whatever is in the freezer or pantry.  If anyone wants to stop in for dinner that's fine.  Just don't expect much.  Those cans of Progresso soup are heavy, and we will be eating them no matter how hot it is.  We have 4 1/2 boxes of linguini, 1/4 box of elbows, 3/4 box of bowties, et cetera.  My goal is to finish all the et cetera.   The only thing I might give in on is the beer bread mix from the Tastefully Simple party Diane hosted back when she lived in Cliffwood Beach.  How many years have they been here?

This move will go smoothly.  First, on moving day I will have an easily accessible bag with a change of clothes, toiletries, and bedding to be used that first night so we don't have to be buying sheets at Walmart at 10:00 at night (like we did when we moved in!)  This time we will not have a truck that's too small and requires a second trip.  This time we will use wardrobe boxes and NOT attempt to move the closet contents ourselves.  This time we will not be moving in December and hell-bent on unpacking while decorating for Christmas.  In fact, we will be packing easily accessible bathing suits.  When in doubt, go swimming.

On Turning 50

I recently celebrated my 50th birthday.  It wasn't anything like I envisioned it.  I had hoped to spend the day kayaking down a river, but it was a Friday and everyone I'd have liked to go with was working.  So I decided I'd go by myself.  Or maybe I'd go hiking and geocaching, or just kayak on the lake, or something.  Maybe we could go fishing or go to the beach.  Then I got the newsflash that the world is still spinning rapidly without regard to my birthday plans.  A decision on which house to buy had to be made that day, so I would be fishing for a house, and would have to settle for a dinner at Big Ed's before Friday Night Games. 

Optimist that I am, it was not an awful lot in life to spend one's birthday choosing between two really nice houses.  Would we go with the wonderful ranch with the good kitchen, the gorgeous living room with the white stone fireplace and the wooded yard and the small outdated bathrooms?  Or would we end up in the bright split level with the great closets, the office, the to-die-for inground pool, all those stairs and the yucky kitchen?  At the end of the day, I ended up with the pool house.  The negotiations, the paperwork, and a kitchen renovation are still ahead of us, but the decision is made.

Being 50 can't be that different than being 49.  In the past week, the beginning of summer vacation, I did some fun things.  I went kayaking twice, visiting with the blue heron and the family of loons.  I've done some shopping and started rewatching the Lord of the Rings trilogy.  Don't tell the governor, but despite the fact that I'm one of those union-joining budget-sucking teachers, I've completed one and 2/3 of the textbooks I'm reading to prepare for the two new curricula I have to teach next year.  

Best of all, I found my first geocache this week.  For those who don't know, geocaching is a treasure hunt played by millions of people.  Geochachers hide plastic boxes in the woods and register its coordinates on a website.  Then someone in that vicinity picks the coordinates off the website and searches for the box using a handheld GPS.  The searcher opens the box, signs the registry, takes a trinket, and leaves a trinket.  I took a geocache coin and left a seashell marked Seaside Heights.  I had only a small amount of trouble finding the cache, and once done I drove directly to the grocery store to buy some poison ivy wash to remedy that small amount of trouble.  Two days later, I'm happy to report several mosquito bites and a scratch from tripping on a fallen branch, but no rash.  

There was a book that I bought for a friend who turned 50 a few years ago.  I was thinking of that book and toyed with the idea of taking a run to the bookstore to buy myself a present.  But I didn't even know the title, so instead, I registered online for my AARP card and then drove to the library to borrow a copy of New York magazine.  While waiting in a doctor's office (to schedule a colonoscopy!!) I started reading an interesting article and I wanted to finish it.  On the way out of the library, out of sheer wild coincidence and serendipity, I left through a random aisle that happened to contain the book Fifty Things To Do When You Turn Fifty.  That's the book I wanted to buy!  It's a collection of advice essays and what I've learned is that many people are upset about turning 50 because they feel old.  I have no idea what they're talking about.  "50 is the new 30.  50 is the new 40."  I didn't care about 30.  I didn't care about 40.  I'm 50 and I still don't care.  Somehow, my hair's not gray.  Somehow, I'm not losing energy.  Somehow, on some really significant level, I'm not swimming with the other 50-year-olds.  But next month, I will be swimming in my own pool.  So be it.  Viva la 50th birthday!