Bumps in the road

Ok, I've been going back and forth about writing this and have finally decided that this blog is intended to write about our move....and this greatly affects the move. I cant very well continue discussing various aspects of this major change in our life without first addressing this, so I should write. We've had a bit of a bumpy road this past few days with some news we weren't expecting. No, I'm not pregnant...gross.

James' sister is not going to be moving into our house as we had previously arranged. I was panic-stricken at hearing this, though have since channeled my panic into a "get it done now" mentality. Obviously, this requires some context: we own a home in a beautiful part of Ottawa that is hard to get into and therefore we do not want to sell. We were so lucky to get in when we did and the particular factors that made it possible won't come up again. There is also the matter of the entire contents of said home, a perky little Mazda 3 and our cat Penny (yes, Penny Lane....James loves the Beatles in a manner which I can only compare to a bingo lady and her troll dolls). So, we have gone from the comfort of knowing we had to do very minimal packing and no rearranging of the house/car/cat scenario to an entirely diametrically opposed scenario wherein we are emptying the house, selling the car and sending the cat away with the dog.

I know, right? And the app on my iPad indicates that all this must happen in the next 104 days because that's how long it is until we move.

So here's where we stand: this weekend we are going to take the cat and the dog to my parents' house. No, we're not leaving them there yet, but we need to drive the four hours to Oshawa to put our Penny face to face with my Tigger and see how much blood is shed. Tigger is my cat, who lives with my parents and is, from experience, the meanest and toughest cat I've ever met. He adores me and my father and really does detest everyone else. You can only imagine how thrilled I am that we get to send our poor, lazy Penny to the Dove Killer (literally - our neighbourhood dove population rises and falls with his moods....though, I hear he has moved on to bunnies this summer). Here's hoping that by the end of the weekend they're friends because I really can't handle the stress of having Penny live with anyone other than my family at this point.

Then there's the house. Let's just say my little T.S.P. strategy is going to have to become far more aggressive. Americans-at-Black-Friday-door-crasher-sales aggressive. Part of going to visit my folks this weekend is being there to help my mother sort our her basement and spare spaces so that she can make room for our entire house full of stuff. Raw deal for my mom, non? After we have some space cleared, it's a matter of taking everything, packing it away and moving it all to Oshawa.

Good times.

And then, of course, there's the car. Well-maintained, reliable and still in remarkable shape. It's being sold. We don't see the point in parking it for two years and since James' sister won't be needing it (our entire motivation for keeping it with the house), it goes. I'm less shattered about this - I don't even drive. It's just one of those newly added items on our to-do list that I wasn't expecting.

At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter, I suppose. We're still going and this is just something we have to deal with to make that happen. Besides, how nice will it be to completely pare down our life? In two years when we open those boxes and unpack what we deemed worthy to keep, we're going to have a house limited in clutter.

My biggest anxiety through all of this is the fact that we have to rent our house. I've never rented a property before and, while I know we are hiring a property management firm, I'm still horrified by what prospective tenants could do to the space I have spent three careful years crafting. I'm mentally (and physically) kissing my damask wallpaper goodbye. I can't see what surviving two years of renters and acknowledge that it will not be here when we return. That's the hardest part. Not knowing what will change and what will be worse off through this ordeal.

If I were 30 years older, I'd have adopted my family's newest slogan, "it is what it is" and have said that a thousand times in the last 48 hours. Sigh. It may be, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

A little underwhelmed

I've stalled a little....did you notice? First of all, I've told next to no one where to find this, so I know that I'm writing without the pressure of a dedicated audience (save for the few who have found me, clever you!). And I've also found it hard to write about the unknown. In many ways aspects of this trip are completely unknown to me yet and I have this notion in my head that I must write about the concrete and in multiple paragraphs with deep insight.

I'm going to blame this fixation on the other, more talented writers in my life whom I'm terribly fortunate to know, such as Wayne K Spear and Joel Crary. Every day as my RSS reader picks up stories from their respective blogs I am equal parts eager to read and dread to be reminded of my own languishing blog. Truth be told, both of these men are writers. It is their actual occupation and it's unfair for me to make comparisons between their output and my own. It's like repainting the bathroom and then throwing up my hands in disgust that I didn't recreate a faithful copy of "Le déjeuner sur l'herbe." I'm just that critical and unfair to myself.

Since I'm here though, I should point out that I have a notebook quickly being stuffed with ideas for writing and topics to explore. So, I'm getting there. If I can be permitted my awkward growing stage, I'm sure I'll find a way to maintain this that is both comfortable for me and interesting for you (the "you" who are already here and the "you" I will eventually share this with). For now that might mean getting up early to write....I read about this concept yesterday in an article that gave advice akin to the idea that an hour of work before noon is worth two after noon. Call me selfish, but I'd like that hour to belong to me right now.

One way ticket and the power of TSP

I've been reeling over the entire situation for a few weeks, clearly, but James said something the other day that completely hit me: when we get on that plane in December (in four months), we will be boarding with a one-way ticket. There's no return ticket here. We're off and going, for real. I've been getting tiny little lurches in my stomach thinking about this and what it means.

In getting my mind space ready, I've been thinking about our physical space and what needs to be done to clear out and pack. It all comes down to TSP. TSP is one of my family's favourite cleaning solutions. When we move into a new space, we always wash down the walls with TSP, even my lonely little rental apartments. When you clean the walls so thoroughly it makes a space truly your own. So in getting my personal space ready for this move, I'm going to be using T.S.P.: take, store, purge. If I'm not taking it and I don't feel like it's worth storing, then I must purge. We'll see what makes the cut.

Visitors visiting

We haven't even left yet and so many people have said they'd like to come visit. If even a fraction of them do arrive on our door step, we'll still have plenty to keep us from feeling the sting of homesickness for all that long. I get the feeling I'm going to become very familiar with the flat-to-airport tube run. Just knowing that so many people even want to come visit is a huge reminder of how much we're loved and likely to be missed. It feels good.

Top Five Tuesday: Food II

Since I went on last week about the five British foods I'm excited to get snacking on, I thought it only fair to make mention of the Canadian/North American fare I'm going to longingly miss....though I'm sure my waistline won't.

1. Poutine. I don't care what I come across there in terms of post-bar alcohol sop-ups, poutine is the tops. I don't eat all that much of it here, but I'm sure I'm still eating more an a normal, healthy body should.

2. Candy. Ok, again, I have to believe I will find suitable replacements for most of the candy I adore, but I know, from working in the industry, that certain items just won't be available. I'm going to try to refrain from begging care packages of mint cookie malt balls, but I can't be certain I'll survive without them.

3. Christmas dinner. I love my new family and appreciate their traditions and British-y customs, but I have to say, Christmas dinner at my house is my favourite meal of the year (a close second being Thanksgiving....which is nearly the same). British Christmas will not include my aunt's sticks or the perogies and kapusta. Or the endless cosmos. Heaven help me if there's a goose involved instead of a turkey. I've had Christmas pudding...it's about as appealing as wet socks. I think, beyond all other foods, Christmas dinner will be my "woe is me" pinnacle.

4. Art-Is-In bread...or really anything Kevin makes, for that matter. This bakery is, far and away, one of my happiest of happy places. The product is amazing. All of it. Every single thing. I don't think a week goes by where I don't eat at least two things from here, if not more. And the energy and excitement pouring out of Kevin is awe-inspiring. He's so talented and I'm going to miss seeing what he comes up with in the next few years. He's the mad genius of the high end food world and I'm very fortunate to have gotten to know him just a teeny bit.

5. Barbecue. To be truthful, I don't know how much barbecue there is in the UK, and I'm sure there's plenty, but I can't imagine we're going to own a grill. Given that the majority of our meals are grilled once the snow melts, I'm going to find it very challenging if we don't have a BBQ. There's a particular steak spice that I'll actually be packing a jar of, just to ensure we have some in London.

So there we go, a Top Five Tuesday on food I'll miss.

Snakes and cap guns

Tonight was the first night since we decided we're going that I'm genuinely sad to be leaving. Ironically, my night was spent at a going away party for two friends moving to Montreal. I'm getting to a place where I'm finally comfortable with the people in my life and truly excited that they're in my life....and we're leaving. I don't regret the decision to go, but as I've started thinking about all the people with whom I'd like to spend time before I go, I realize that I'm going to miss this group of people more than I believe I would have missed other groups in various times of my life.,,,if that makes any sense.

Two years isn't an especially long time, but it seems like a long enough stretch when faced with the knowledge that this group will change and evolve in my absence. I suppose it's all a gamble, but I'm going to miss them terribly.