We’ve moved into our new house with a garage in Colegiales, with the help of friends. They’ve packed crates and unpacked crates, fixed leaky faucets, cleaned closets and moved furniture and moved it again, and watched out for our three children and reminded us to eat something.
Moving can be a stress.
We’ve unpacked and put things in their places and had the gasman over to fix a heater and change a pipe. The house is shaping up and the kids are loving the garage. It is free range for them. It is full of toys and there’s plenty of room. Maybe we’ll put in a foosball table or a ping-pong table or even a half ramp for skateboarding. Well, that would be pushing it. But you get the idea. There’s room to stretch their legs and try things out and dream. Draw, paint, read and write.
Five days. That’s what the brunt of the move took. It is also the amount of time that I have been unconnected. No internet. No emails. No reading up on the latest news. No real-time headlines. I have been out of touch with life outside my four walls. And things have probably happened without my knowing. A comet smashing to the ground, maybe. Man landing on the moon (for real this time?). And the discovery of a tenth planet (that already happened, didn’t it?). Many things may have happened, extraordinary and political. Another global financial crisis? I don’t know because I have been without access to the internet and without emails. I have been incommunicado for five days while busting it to get the house in order and the kids back in routine to go to school and do homework and enjoy their free time and the garage. And to put up hooks, fix closet doors and move furniture once and then again, and to unpack boxes, crates and suitcases. I think it is all done, at least most of it.
So now it is time to rest.
And to catch up on a heap of work. And all those emails.