THE KITCHEN BEFORE
THE KITCHEN AFTER
Despite the universe throwing every conceivable road block in my way – the car breaking and needing serious work in the shop, my edema acting up and making standing for more than 15 minutes at a time painful, the cost of moving mounting up to unbelievable proportions, etc. etc. – I am defying the world and packing up our 400 square foot studio apartment in Hanford, California to embark on a cross country road trip to Pensacola, Florida. That’s 2,261 miles. At 8 months pregnant. With a car full of cats. And a retarded moose dog. Who says I don’t have adventures?
My dad is going with me so I won’t be alone, but it’s still a daunting task. I’ve spent the last few days slowly packing up the apartment with the barest of essentials. And the more I pack the more I think “essentials” includes things like my antique phonograph horn (otherwise, how could I listen to turn of the century Al Bowlly music in the mornings on the porch with my cup of coffee..?) and my various carvings of cats and cougars.
The prospect of leaving so many of my precious collectables behind wrankles me. Oh. And I HATE touching cardboard. Hate hate hate hate it. It’s like nails on chalkboard to my fingertips. It ripples through my nervous system like a sour high note at a demon opera. So needless to say, I am one cranky bitch these days.
But I’m excited to be living – if not WITH my honey right away – at least near him. Until he is released to live off of the base, I will be carving out our little nest solo and preparing our home for baby Tessa. But it brings us one step closer to being reunited as a family under one roof again. Only this time, it’s 15 minutes from the beach and a day trip to New Orleans. I’ll take that.
Well, I better get back to packing. Just the living room and bedroom left!