I'm ready.
I've spent a few days in Texas visiting my mom. Today I begin the drive back. I no longer do 13 hour drives in a single day, not traveling by myself, or with Tikka. Probably not even with a human companion as I fear the consequences would be a certain lack of ability to stand up straight. We adapt.
Wednesday is the first day of moving back into my house. A couple of new rugs arrive, rugs the were not necessarily required as part of the remodel, but which were ordered anyway. I may have gotten carried away. I can accept that about myself, an excess of enthusiasm, a tendency toward too-muchness, a lifelong battle that, balanced with the sure knowledge that the entire issue of too much or too little is really almost irrelevant. It is not the things or the space that make life worthwhile, or which bring satisfaction, joy or contentment. Perhaps not even happiness, but then it seems to me that happiness is but a fleeting thing, a shadow emotion and perhaps we give it too much weight. Joy and contentment, satisfaction, peace -- these are all more deeply lasting, and they carry no dependence upon external things.
On Wednesday the first load from the movers also arrives. 137 items. Mostly boxes, I think, but furniture as well. The majority of the kitchen and master bedroom, but not all. A fraction of the books. The remainder, the things that have been in storage the last 10 months arrive on Thursday. I am ready, although truthfully unpacking is something that one looks forward to both with joy and trepidation.
Although I am ready, ready to be home, ready to arrange and rearrange, fret and fluff, I fear the house is not. Well, the house is probably mostly ready -- it has been progressing without me although I had been warned that they may still be working in a couple of less essential rooms. There is always a punch list. The studio is probably not ready and that is proving to be source of frustration because even as I know it will take me time to unpack, to settle, to arrange and rearrange, the place I really want to be is in the studio. I want to make something. New pajamas come to mind. I am in desperate need of new pajamas, but that is really just an excuse, a first step. One must steel oneself, prepare to expect little and hope perhaps to be surprised.
Tomorrow, the house....
