It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. COVID had stolen my concentration, my initiative and my imagination. I found myself watching way too many home decorating shows and playing games on my iPad. Writing had taken a back seat.
Since I was wasting away, I decided to it was time to move. Our house was a family house and my family had grown up. It had too many empty rooms and contained too much “stuff”. It was overwhelming me. I figured since we aren’t doing anything, why not find a new, smaller house? My husband, Greg was not as keen as I was. He had a big garage man cave that he was reluctant to give up, but what good is an empty man cave?
I found a cute place in an adult community, not far from where we lived. We looked at two other places there too, but the fully renovated place won us both over. We decided to do it.
We put our house on the market. It went online at 9 a.m. At 11:00 a.m. the first people came through. They put an offer in. By the end of the day we had our home of twenty eight years sold. There was no turning back. We were moving.
Now, what to do with twenty-eight years worth of “stuff”? We sold items online, had an auctioneer agree to take some antiques, held a yard sale, took many, many trips to thrift shops and the dump. It was exhausting, but thrilling. People who bought our treasures wrote heartwarming emails and messages telling us how much they love our items. Why did we keep so many things we never used?
We moved seven days before Christmas. Our new place was stacked high with boxes. We spent the week putting things away and by Christmas Eve we had the place (somewhat) decorated for the season. Stockings were hung on the new fireplace, our tiny tree was plugged in and we even decorated the outside with snowmen and a big red bow on the door.
I cooked turkey dinner with all the trimmings in my new kitchen and it didn’t feel like work. Nothing feels like work here. Everything is manageable! A weight has been lifted off my shoulders.