Everything we own is now back in our apartment. Most of it is in boxes, but it's back in. I'm not particularly in a rush to unpack it since things are somewhat neater around here without all that stuff about. But, tomorrow is the serious unpacking day. Every room is getting a make-over, and so far our space seems much more functional. Hopefully this will still be the case once all the boxes are emptied.
I'm sure everyone experiences this. When you move, you swear you will buy less stuff from now on. You realize you can absolutely get by with less. Especially in the United States where accumulation is a way of life.
Matt and I were discussing just that on the afternoon we finished packing up every last pen, and bowl, and ball of yarn, and drumstick. I even told him that I didn't want anything for my birthday that would ever need to be moved. Then, what do you know, I added, "Except for a blue typewriter."
All summer I've been somewhat obsessively searching Craig's list and ebay for a vintage 1950's-1960's era aqua or baby blue portable manual typewriter. Yes, I was very specific in my search. Why did I need a typewriter? To type on scrapbook pages and little labels. And just because I wanted one.
I have bid on probably 10 such typewriters this summer, only to lose the auctions because of my lack of attention to closing bid times, or to my cheapskate-ish-ness.
Then, only days after I swore off material goods, I suddenly won an auction. I wasn't going to bid. But I did. Turns out, I was the only bidder. Starting bid: $9.99. Selling price: $9.99. With the $21.00 shipping, it was a steal and worth the wait. Still, I felt bad. The day after we starting moving back in, I got home from work and UPS had delivered yet another material object to us amidst a sea of boxes. Sigh. Maybe if I work extra hard to get rid of 3 other items I own but never use, I can repent of my materialist guilt.
I feel guilty. But not that guilty. The typewriter is so lovely to me. Matt always tries to make me feel guilty for buying things for myself before my birthday or Christmas. He has a point. But I keep doing it anyway. Again...sigh.
In other moving back in news, Miss K has done exceptionally well dealing with all this chaos, and overall seems very happy to be back home, near her beloved dog park and dog friends.
The same day my typewriter arrived, the contractor stopped by to look over all the renovation mess-ups. Not sticklers for details in what we are calling our "faux luxury" apartment renovation. "Faux luxury" means granite counter tops flanked by laminated pressed wood cabinets with smashed corners and crooked doors. Our new refrigerator came with a door facing the wrong direction so we could barely open up the door without jumping up on the countertop. Before the contractor switched the door, Matt emptied all the food out of the door which allowed the Butter Bandit to strike again.
I had to chase her into the living room. Luckily this stick of butter was still solid so she couldn't slurp it down as quickly as the last two.
So, in closing, the re-moving in process moves forward. Now I'm trying to resist filling up my new refrigerator with more food than two people, and a sneaky sneak of a dog, could ever consume.
I'm not really succeeding. But, boy do those vegetables look lovely in my new fridge.