I am officially ALL MOVED IN.

Tuesday, I received delivery of three pieces of new living room furniture. Furniture that is not merely new to me, but NEW — I got to rip off the tags and everything. And it all matches — not only each other (loveseat, big chair, ottoman), but, by some twisted miracle, the furniture coordinates with my area rug and with the painting I bought at the BVU student art sale, and all pieces look good against the khaki toned paint on the living room walls, done by the former homeowners. Such perfection would frighten me, if I hadn’t almost immediately bled* on the new ottoman. Fortunately, the microfiber fabric is as forgiving as the salesman claimed.

First off, let me tell that, as much as I adore Edward Gorey, this t-shirt is dead wrong. Too many books is exactly the number you have when you blithely refuse all offers of help and pack them up and move them and carry them down into the basement yourself. And the fact that, since becoming employed post-grad school, I’ve been springing for more hardbacks, didn’t help. BUT, yesterday, I got all books unpacked and on the shelves and the greater part of the collection in alpha order. I then ruthlessly weeded through to find excess books, books I’ve read and then said "eh," books I will never read, books I could exist happily without, and put them in a box to take to the local old folks home. That box I can lift and transport easily, as I could part with only 8 books. EIGHT BOOKS! Heck, I’ve received 6 books from Amazon.com in the last two weeks. The upshot of that kind of math, of course, is that I AM NEVER MOVING AGAIN. Hear that, oh my nephews? When I die, just throw me into the basement library/sewing/knitting room and brick it up, then sell the house. Trust me — you won’t want to deal with the books and yarn I will accumulate in the next year, let alone 3 or 4 decades hence.

Today, for the first time in my almost 43 years on this earth, I mowed grass. I did it with my cute little Black and Decker electric mulching LawnHog mower, which is quiet and non-gasoline-stinky and lightweight and easy to handle. Now, I will admit that, because we’ve had so little rain, I only had to mow parts of the lawn — the shady spots and the places where other kinds of grass/weeds were springing up. But still, it was fun and I was definitely feeling the lure of the power tool. Vacuum cleaners should look and sound like this. Of course, since I have summers off, mowing the lawn is a pleasant diversion instead of a necessary chore, and we’ll see how I feel once school starts, esp. if we have a wet early fall. But still. Oh, I also now understand the need for edgers, or weed whackers, or whatever it is one uses to cut the grass along the bottoms of trees and along rock garden edges. I also understand the need for cold lemonade.

Now, since I am all moved in, I can take some pictures. I promise to take pictures and post them asap. As soon as I go buy some lemonade, in fact.

*just because I’ve been shaving my legs** for 30 years doesn’t mean I’m any good at it.

**knees down (you know you were wondering)


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