HERD ABOUT IT?

by Ana Grarian

Ana is in the midst of moving. Actually at the tail end of it. Must be why I feel like sh*%! (pun intended) My daughter and granddaughter and I are continuing the family tradition of mixed generational living. We have been looking for a place for several years now. Then one day, after seeing yet another place that was too expensive, too small and in a bad location, we stopped in at a house that had been on the rental market for several years. That was it! We found our new home.

In late December. In the middle of the normal rental cycle. In CNY winter. During the holidays. We had two weeks to sublet our old apartments and move. Oh – and the contractor was not finished working on the new place. (Not a new, new place. An old house that needs plenty of work. Just new to us)

So we moved in while the stairs were being carpeted and the paint on the bedroom floors needed to dry. The first night the new thermostat didn’t work and we had no heat. The bathroom is a filthy disaster that we barely can use out of necessity. The contractor has vacated the premises apparently angry that his nice warm, inside winter job is gone. We get to clean up the trash, paint and dust.

Did I tell you we moved out of 2nd floor apartments into a two story house? Ana’s hips are complaining. And I mean we moved. We didn’t hire a moving company. We got some friends to help on the biggest day and borrowed my old van from my other daughter. We packed, hauled, scrubbed around our work schedule, and the holidays.

It’s not like moving a farm. Finding ways to move equipment and livestock and feed. Trying to do chores around all the other work, while trying to keep the stress of the move from hurting the livestock, decreasing milk production, causing animals to lose weight or lose a calf or a litter of pigs.

No this is much easier. Both the dog and the cat have settled in, and the rabbit and hamster will be OK once we stop moving everything – including their cages – around.

It will be worth it. We each have our own rooms. There is room for sewing machines and a craft table. The dog has a fenced in back yard. A minuscule back yard, but a yard where she can be outside without a leash. There is room to garden – not much – and on the side of a busy street – but a garden none the less.There is a kitchen – of sorts. Who builds a 10×10 kitchen with four – count them – 4 – doorways into it? The stove sits in front of a window covering part of it and looking all yucky from the outside. There are no counters on either side of it because you have to leave room for the cellar door to open. There is no outside access to the cellar. The refrigerator is blocked when the back door is open. Not the farmhouse kitchen we would have liked – but we’ll manage – because…….there is a porch. A beautiful deep, covered porch….currently covered in boxes, bags, sports equipment and other detritus of our lives….but one day it will have a porch swing and some rockers and look out on the garden.

And it will be our garden. With carrots and tomatoes and cucumbers and peppers

and flowers and all sorts of good things.