Alas, I had hoped to claim victory by last night. But, as we have learned the hard way, our family has a lot of stuff. Much of it is junk that I am not sure we need or want. Much of it is Important. And Precious. And Labor Intensive.
We began moving shortly after we closed on our new house at the end of July. Our old garage is still quite full of garage-y things. Our basement is still brimming with basement-y things. And our old kitchen cupboards hold a variety of very hard to pack knick-knack-y-things. In the new house, we have boxes everywhere. Our bedroom floor is littered with drawers of clothes (The actual dressers to which the drawers belong are in a different room. By design. Sort of).
Most of my shoes are in a large bag whose location I may or may not be able to guess. And the sideboard to my dining room set is somewhere in the metro area awaiting repair from moving damage (hint: Neither drag nor tork the legs on a sideboard-with-ball-and-claw-legs, even if you are a Big Burly Moving Man. Or perhaps, especially if you are Big Burly Moving Man).
Everyone in the family has a bed. We have managed at least three successful meals that were actually prepared in our new kitchen (technically, the main dish of one of them was prepared outside by the front door in the smoker). We know the whereabouts of our safe (which holds nothing of value to anyone other than us and the IRS), the antique silverware (which has seen hard use, was never overly valuable, and is custom-engraved with the family's last initial), and the most beloved teddy bears (named Inky-Dinky and Polka Dot).
We are exhausted.
But, we are all adjusting well to our new home. Including Their Majesties the Royal Furballs. Ravenkall, pictured above, especially loves all of the high perches and balconies in the house. The first time he attempted the perch in the photo, he required a ladder-assisted escort back to the groun. The second time, he jumped (and all bones appear to have survived).
It is much easier to get oneself into trouble than out of it, but I suppose we shall all land on our feet eventually.
2 comments:
Did the cat jump all the way up there from the ground?!?
Glad to hear you're making progress getting settled in the new house.
There is a coat closet to the left of right of the front door (just out of the picture) with a plant ledge on top. He can easily get on top of the plant ledge from the stairs, and from there to the window sill. But the sill is only about 3" wide, so he can walk forward and backwards but not turn around.
Last night, my husband pulled out a ladder and brought him down, so this morning the cat was back in the window again. After a couple of minutes of batting at dust, he got bored up there and howled at us, probably asking for help to get back down again. We were still getting the kids ready for school, and the cat finally jumped down to the floor on his own (apparently landing unscathed and unbroken--thankfully he's still almost a kitten).
Ravenkall is our tree-cat. He would have been an efficient bird hunter had he stayed stray. His brother, Shadow, is the cave-cat and would have been content to dig for mice and other rodents. Shadow lounged in a sunny spot on the entryway floor this morning to watch his jumping-brother's predicament.
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