A Girl...

Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes

Those are all the body parts that are sore!

Two loads in a seventeen-foot U-haul, three in a Honda Civic, and at least a dozen in the Element and we are all moved in--well, except for the piano, which is convenient considering there are boxes and bags and chairs and rolled-up rugs where the piano will go (not to mention the boxes, bags, chairs, and rolled-up rugs everywhere else too). We'll be digging out for weeks, but at least now we know that all our things are boxed up and on the premises instead of boxed up and three miles away.

My family was in town to help until last night, which was invaluable not only because I like it when they visit but because they're also strong and thorough and mechanically, technically, and botanically inclined. They did things like empty the second-story hot tub through the first-story washing machine drain, rewire wonky outlets, bring plants back to life, Swiffer the porch cobwebs, and spackle the ceiling without using a stepladder, all while I delegated from the tire swing.

(Note the cat crying to go outside.)

Okay, I didn't just delegate while everyone else worked until their muscles smoked; I have a deep purple shiner on my knee to prove I was extremely, and dangerously, involved. Anyway, it's hard to delegate to people who don't take orders very well, dot dot dot. Let's just say there were some tense moments this weekend and I was glad when the last box was carried over the threshold and the celebratory ice cream sandwiches were passed around, signalling a job well done and time to go relax in the backyard, where relax = pull weeds and trim bushes and count the ways in which the sprinkler system is all jacked up.

I never would have guessed it, but the yardwork turned out to be the best part of the weekend. When we weren't surveying the land from the treehouse, lounging in the adirondack that magically appeared on the deck one afternoon (we think it was sent over by our realtor), and snacking on muffins baked by our across-the-street neighbors (who have a little gay dog named Will), we were ripping out the morning glory that had twirled itself around absolutely everything, harvesting vegetables we didn't know we had, and discovering that a cabbage leaf makes a very nice hat.

At one point I mentioned that it would be totally cute if instead of clipping the ten-foot-long errant rosebush stem we were to wind it around something such that it formed an archway leading to the corner of the yard with the birdbath and the waist-high patch of rosemary. Five minutes later, Simon and my dad were bending rebar and wiring it to the porch and training the thorny limb to arc just so. If they could have talked the bush into growing faster, they would have done it. So clearly I'm not the one to blame for being a princess.

So it was an indescribably exhausting weekend, and one without the solace of the internet (it worked for two days and then mysteriously crashed) or the hot tub (it worked, then it didn't, then it did, then it didn't). We went to bed late every night, slept HARD, and then coaxed our muscles back to life in the mornings, ready to do it all again. For a five-day trip to the Bay Area, my family saw nothing of the Golden Gate Bridge or clam chowder bread bowls at the wharf or boys holding hands in public. Instead, they traded it all for dust bunnies and In-n-Out burgers and solemn promises that next time the dining room table will be spread with something much better than pizza.

[Drat. My photo of our first meal at the dining room table is stuck on my other computer. Here's a picture of my cat at the table instead. She's kind of short.]

Posted by Leah at July 11, 2007 12:30 PM