Cardboard boxes amid flashes of light

Since moving Man-wonder and I have been feeling like old elastic bands—struggling to stretch and fit around something strange while resisting the pull to slip back to things more familiar.

In the short time frame of two months we’ve gone from a family of three living in roughly three thousand square feet (with cable television) and surrounded by a half-acre of wooded privacy to a couple, living in just over nine hundred square feet (no cable television) and being barely ringed by a thin strip of green grass.

A bit of a difference. . .

The move was fantastic. Family pitched in and threw their all into a back-aching case of stuffing a twenty-six foot moving van to the brim, driving it five miles, and unloading it all again. Lots of groans, grunts and annoyed-puzzled looks mixed in with snorts of laughter and plenty of love. It was fun.

Since then it’s been two weeks of emptying and flattening boxes, hustling to get everything into place and rushing out to pick up this and that then turning around to do it again. Collapsing for short naps during the day, because night sleeps still aren’t solid enough; Waking over strange unfamiliar noises and Man-wonder’s flashlight bobbing about. I swear as soon as he loosens his grip on that damn thing I’m hiding it. I wonder what the neighbors think as he does his daily stand in the carport turning circles while aiming his flashlight at the walls, roof and all areas in between.

man with flashlight

I noticed a new package of batteries on the counter yesterday—obviously he’s not planning on slowing down any time soon. Maybe I should insist he pack a clipboard and stuff a pen over one ear in the hopes of making him less conspicuous?

Is it the male version of sniffing telephone poles?

Speaking of slowing down—I was catching up on Danny Gregory’s blogs yesterday and one had me doing a lot of head nodding. It’s about his mad dash to settle into a new life away from New York. How he found himself pushing to settle in at his normal above-average city speed and how he’s learning to slow down and allow his new life to gather around him as it should.

Slowing down—it’s a good thing. I think I’ll try it.

Who knows—maybe the twitching will stop . . .

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