Moving

Well, it is official. We are home owners, in spite of all the uproar over the financial state of the country, or world, rather.

Friday we closed on our house across town.

Saturday, my parents came to help us pack. Or that was the plan. We actually made quite a few trips of packed vehicles over to the new house. Normally, I am all for a day of good work, but Saturday just about did me in. Pregnant women, I was warned, should not lift and carry boxes packed with their belongings. I don't completely buy it, but perhaps those last two trips were too much. Maybe Abigail and I should have crawled into bed and pretended nothing weird was happening in our house for an afternoon nap. Maybe.

Yesterday after church, we rested. I helped Chris load the van twice for trips over to the house. The first trip, I sent him and Abigail, to unload while I had some time alone. The second, I taught the elementary school extracurricular Sunday night class.

Today I feel better. Abigail and I are going to take some things over, including a bottle of Cascade and the dishes in our sink, and go grocery shopping. This house is starting to sound hollow, Chris said, and the other is becoming chaotic. Perhaps this evening I should start unpacking a little before anything else moves in.