It's done

Ransom and I are no longer Connecticut homeowners. This morning we met the new owners for a final walk-through of the house, answered a few questions they had, wished them well and hugged them goodbye. We didn't go to the closing after that, taking our lawyer's advice that there was no need; we signed papers in his office yesterday.

So by noon we were all done — and done in. I have never been so exhausted in my life. The last two weeks have been physically grueling. The six weeks before that were emotionally hard. But it's done. The "I can't do this/Yes, I can" debate has been resolved. I did it. We did it. Ransom also worked hard to make this all happen, as did my friend Leigh, to whom I will be forever indebted for the hours she put in helping me trash or donate stuff.

I tell you again, dear readers, start planning for your next move today. Declutter your life. Set aside an hour or two once a week to work on this project — you will be grateful when it comes time to actually move.

I composed a post yesterday that I was unable to put up — technical glitz. It described the hours it took the movers to make it all happen (13!); the amazement I felt at their ability to work so hard and so fast for so long; the sometimes four-a-day runs I made to the dump, or, in PC speak, the Transfer Station; the ache my knees felt from the hundreds of times I had to climb those g** d*** stairs to the basement or second floor — oh praise be thee, god of one-floor condos; help us find one of your creations soon.

It's been a hard two months but I am now looking forward to two days relaxing here in our luxurious Hampton Inn suite (ha!) and then heading west on Monday to glorious Palm Springs. I'll write again soon when there's something new to tell you.

Two views of the empty living room:

Suffering from TMS

So it's somehow a week later and I am just getting back to this saga. Do not think for a moment I've been slouching. Quite the contrary, I have been busting my butt, hurting my back, feet and knees and sweating through every day, worrying about getting everything done. Me worry? You're damn right!

I'm actually no longer fearful I won't get everything done. I'm 98% there. What keeps me up nights is wondering whether the moving company we hired is going to show up. They told us they'd be here tomorrow, July 27, to pack up the kitchen and all the Fiesta ware, Russell Wright, fancy china, framed art and pictures, etc.. I've pretty much packed everything else.

Only now they say, "no, we never said that. We'll do the packing and the moving in one day and you're scheduled for the 27th, with the 28th as a backup." They also said they would confirm the exact day and time twenty-fours prior.

Well, we haven't heard from them and are left wondering what happens next. I doubt they will be here tomorrow. That's ok with me really because I can finish the remaining 2%, load the cars and head off to the Hampton Inn where we'll be staying the next six nights. But I sure would like to know they are really coming on the 28th!

But this is boring. Let me talk a bit about the back story I mentioned a week ago.

This move has been hard. I mean, HARD! Everyone knows that moving ain't easy and everyone seems to agree we all have too much stuff (TMS). I strongly urge anyone reading these words to start now, today, decluttering your life. When you let it go, as we did, for twenty-five years and then find yourself with only two months to clean it all up — well, the pressure is enormous. As is the amount of physical labor.

Anxiety really is a sleep killer. Two weeks into this project I was waking up just about every morning at 4 or 5am and having a real hard time getting back to sleep. I'd lie there worrying about everything that had to be done. I'd have thoughts like "I can't do this; I just can't". It was literally debilitating.

I called my doctor and he had a solution: a wonderful drug named Temazepam. It helped me sleep longer but mainly it took the edge off my fears. I was still waking up and worrying about the task, but the worrying had a more intellectual basis to it. I wasn't so emotionally involved anymore. I started saying "I can do this; I WILL do this."

And you know what? I will. It's happening. Tomorrow we leave this house. A week from today we'll be on the road. A week after that we'll be getting to know our temporary digs and starting the hunt for a permanent home. A year from today all this anxiety and back pain and stress will be forgotten.

But trust me, it would have all been easier if I had started this process a year ago, or ten years ago. Why do we keep something for twenty years and then throw it away? It makes no sense. Throw it away today. Now.

Keep to the golden rule: if you haven't touched something in two years, you don't need it. Really. You don't.

Who, what, when, where, why, how?

I learned in high school that a good story or report answers the five Ws (and one H). Let's see if I can apply that lesson to this moving-to-California tale.

"Who" is likely the easiest: me and Ransom, Zack and Louie. For those with whom I haven't been in touch recently, Zack, in the first picture, is our 90 pound, 7 year-old Lab mix who we rescued from South Carolina by way of the New Rochelle Animal Shelter. Louie was abandoned at the kennel we use when both his owners took ill and could no longer provide for him. He's four years old now and comes in at 35 pounds. Ransom and I are a bit older and our weight does not need to be discussed.

"What" I already answered yesterday. We have sold our Connecticut house of 25 years and are moving to Palm Springs, CA. We have a rental lined up that we can use until Nov. 1; with any luck that will be plenty of time to find and buy a new home. We're looking for a one story condo: less knee pain and fewer fix-it issues.

"When" would be now. We've had two months to clean out the house and, let me tell you, it's been incredibly stressful. Everyone I know agrees: we all have too much stuff. And what living here all these years has taught me is that the more space we have the more stuff we will accumulate to fill that space. "Nature abhors a vacuum," remember? The two months is almost up and we will be ready. Again, closing is on July 30.

"Where"? Woodbridge, CT, to Palm Springs, CA: 2,778 miles.

"Why"? Ok, this is a big one. To start with, we've both come to hate winter. Ransom got there first — after all, he's from the deep South (Alabama) — but I followed along pretty quickly. Once your bones are too brittle to allow skiing and once it gets too hard to enjoy long walks in the woods, trudging through the snow, well, winter loses a lot of its charm. Another thing that's lost charm is the two flights of stairs I navigate every day, several times a day. After three surgeries my right knee makes itself felt painfully and constantly.

Then there's this house itself. We have truly loved it and think it's a great house but, truth be told, houses really are money pits and time-eaters and we're just not good at being homeowners. We don't do the regular maintenance we should and things break or go wrong and, well, we're tired of it. And this particular house is too damn big: 2700 square feet for just the two of us? Way too big!

Another reason to move is to be closer to Ransom's other job: Music Director of the Redlands (CA) Symphony. He's been flying out there six or seven times a year — until the pandemic at least — and we decided he could just as easily live out there and fly to Yale as need be. (Yes, he's keeping that job). I'm retired and so there's no work for me to be close to. I will admit I might miss the proximity of New York and all the opera, theatre and concerts I've gone to, but when will I feel comfortable doing that again? It may well be that my hundred events a year schedule is a thing of the past, killed by the Corona virus.

And finally, we really like Palm Springs. Ransom's been there many times, me only twice, but both of us love the vibe, love the mid-century aesthetic, enjoy the hipness and appreciate the casual attitude.

That leaves "How?" On August 2 I'll get behind the wheel of my Subaru Impreza, with Zack and Louie on their favorite dog beds in the back, and head west. With me will be either David or Cameron, Ransom's two students. In the Lexus will be Ransom and whoever's not with me, and all our stuff: suitcases, computers, coffee maker and everything else we'll need for the next however many weeks. Our furniture — and over 100 boxes of sheet music! — will have left Woodbridge on July 28, heading into storage until we're ready for it. Note: most of that music is being donated to the University of Redlands, but there's probably another 100 or so boxes of "stuff." We are no doubt taking too much; what will be jettisoned will be decided by the size of the condo. Trust me, it will NOT be 2700 square feet!

So that's the story, or at least the front end of the story. There's a back story to get into, maybe tomorrow. I'll likely title that part of the tale Anxiety is a Sleep Killer.

Ch-ch-changes, says David Bowie

It's been over two years since I've posted to this blog. Because I had nothing left to say? No, probably not; if you know me you know I have an opinion on just about everything. Because I was too depressed by the state of America two years ago? Yeah, that's a good bet, but in my little corner of the country things were actually going well. Because the pandemic scared the crap out of me and I didn't want to verbalize those fears? Yeah, that's true too.

But it's not really the main reason.

I think I just got tired, and lazy. And being an ex-Catholic I feel guilt very easily; when I didn't publish it bothered me. Then, like many of us, once I break a good habit, it's hard to get started again — I'm looking at you running shoes and exercise bikes.

So I was lazy and I got out of the habit and kept my mouth shut (or, my fingers still).

My brother suggested the other night that I find a way to keep my friends and family apprised of the momentous changes coming; he said the blog would work, or I could just start daily emails. I'm going to try the blog.

And what is this big change? Most of you already know: Ransom and I are leaving our CT house, pictured here, and moving to California, specifically, to Palm Springs. I will update this blog throughout the process; the schedule is July 27 the movers arrive to pack what I haven't; the next day they load the truck; on the 29th we have a cleaning crew to make the house as acceptable as possible. Closing is on the 30th and then we head west on the second of August. We're taking two of Ransom's students with us to share the drive — and, in case you're wondering, it's their schedule that's keeping us from leaving right after the closing.

We plan on taking a week to get there, with no hugely long drives along the way. But we will be on a schedule, having already booked all the hotels we need, due to having the dogs with us.

So that's the summary. Next time: what's happened so far, what's left to do, who are the buyers and the big question: will I survive this most-stressful-event EVER?!