Yes . . . I'm still alive. Buried under boxes and going under for the third time. Moving has been such an adventure.
The Good . . .
- Wonderful new neighbors who welcomed us with wine on the patio, brought us their newspapers, taught us pool maintenance 101, and gifted us with a huge sandwich platter and chips on moving-in day.
- Dips in the pool, our sanctuary, where I've created a self-imposed rule to not think about all the boxes, worry about the kids or stress about our new jobs.
- Messages and care packages from all of you making us feel missed, loved and comforted.
- My beautiful new craft room.
Yes! My new craft room has two windows and lots of built-in light, a desk, a ceiling fan . . . ah, someday it will be Heaven on Earth.
The Bad . . .
- I found my Patron Saint of Lost Objects, but now I've lost the accompanying prayer card. Still can't find the TV remote. (If I ever move again – God Help Me! – I will hide the remove from the movers!) We've finished unpacking all the kitchen and family room area and declared it the no-box zone, but lurking somewhere in the house is still a Cuisinart and a bunch of plates – probably with the car maintenance supplies!
- I haven't been able to post because (A) lost the cord to connect the digital camera to the computer for a few weeks; (B) new boss lady sending me all over kingdom come (aka Central Texas) on nursing home surveys; (C) trying to create more box-free zones; (D) haven't been able to create anything because the craft room is outside the box-free zone . . . see below!; (E) haven't been able to create more box-free zones because boss lady keeps sending me out of town (see B).
The Crazy . . .
This is my craft room – well, what I could show you of it, because it's so full of boxes I can't get past the door.
My family knows that creating and crafting are what keep me grounded and well, as close to sane as I can represent. It's gotten me through the toughest times. I'm a little on the crazy side these days since I can't even get a whiff of some ink, glue, paper, glitter . . . ah, my touchstone is in there somewhere!
A little homesick, seriously overworked, missing my kids, craving my touchstone . . . okay, I'll admit it, I'm a little on the whiny side. Save yourselves! But, don't give up on me . . . I'm coming up for air and safe harbor is in sight.