Overseeing the packing of one's possessions is both boring and embarassing. Why we have that much stuff I do not know; certainly some boxes were filled with treasured articles but 16 pages of boxes can't all be treasured. I saw friends Sunday and Monday evening, which was nice closure. Today I put a few dabs of paint on a ding in the wall, punched in the code for the garage door, and left our first house. I think the universe knew it, too, for Skynyrd's "Tuesday's Gone" started on the radio before I had bumped up onto the dedicated roads and out of Spring Ridge Crossing.

We're packing and moving because the house in Menominee is ours all ours. Jenelle's been going to town on the medium-sized things and I've been helping with the little things. We're talking a lot about priorities. Still, without doing a thing we have been eating meals on stools around an island with water views to the horizon. No matter what else happens, what we strip, paint, tape, sand, build, demo or otherwise do, that part is exactly the sort of awesome we desperately wanted.

C's enjoying the north, too: stroller trips to Swings 'n Things multiple times a day, a kitty door to the basement which is 1T sized, and plenty of grandparents. (Duder does not enjoy the movement of appliances. He screamed like crazy during our refrigerator swap.)