2.22.2013

8/52 - I'm on the move

 Monday I signed a lease on a new apartment three blocks South of where I currently live so I've spent my spare moments this week boxing my things up, making piles to donate, and day dreaming about my new spot I'll call home.

This move will be my twentieth {20th!!) move in the twelve years since I first moved away to college.  I might be one of the few who like the moving process.  It's therapeutic. Sure, there are those moments mixed in where I wish I weren't so connected to certain things anymore because it means more boxes and more trips up and down stairs.  You know, the odds and ends that linger and you wonder why you even take the time to pack them up when they'll just end up in the back of a closet still waiting to reemerge important and useful again.  I'm the furthest thing from a pack rack there is, I donate/give away/sell regularly and almost to a fault. {why oh why did I donate that perfect little red rice cooker?} But there are things that continue to follow me around because I can't bring myself to let go of them.  If I were a snail with my shell and I had to be more selective with the items I kept lugging around, the moving process would be very slick.

The other big appeal is starting fresh in a new spot.  This time around I'm really looking at my things and wanting them to be different.  So I've set up a spray booth in my covered porch out back and giving a bunch of things a face lift.

Moving is fun.
I've been dying to have my own little spot again and while I found the perfect one, I have good friends right across the hall so there's that added bonus too.
The downside - I'll miss my roommates, and the view, and all the storage...
But, moving is fun.
 Photo of the Week: My Grandpa and me on the beach in Edmonds, Washington.
After the drive from Utah to Washington would take all day, the first thing I'd want to do {after getting a hug from my grandparents and taking a quick running/skipping tour of the house and yard to investigate any changes}was to go to the beach.  Almost immediately I'd start asking my Grandpa when we could go. 
We would check the tide schedule in the paper and it never seemed like it was perfectly timed.  We'd have to wait.  And wait.
But then we could go.  So we'd grab our buckets and head out to turn over every rock possible collecting the tiny little crabs.  Oh!  I loved it.  Just thinking about it now I have that huge lump in my throat and a smile spread across my face thinking about all the fun we had.  I can practically smell it.  That seaweed and wet sand and grandpa.

4 comments:

  1. Wherever you end up nesting it is always so perfect and so unique. Have fun making it so, again.

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  2. Jenna! Can't wait to have you as a neighbor! Next time you're near by, take a peak in our garage (third one in) and feel free to use any shelf space you need!

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  3. what a sweet, sweet picture!
    i'm glad you like moving; you're rare!!!

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