A big moment. Although a week late, this morning at 7:20 the moving truck arrived at the door. In the days before, we sorted, packed, threw things away, and prepared ourselves—bit by bit each day. The delay was due to the kitchen not being finished.
The doorbell rings. Five strong, young men eager to get started dive into the boxes and furniture. Everything quickly disappears into a large MAN truck and is already being unloaded at the new house by 11:00. We are just moving within the city, so travel time is short. By 14:00 the five finish their work. Everything intact, everything in place. We sign, give a $50 tip, and everyone receives a bottle of vodka. Then we are alone. The unpacking begins. We won’t be finished today; tomorrow is another day.
Everything feels so different. Some of our furniture doesn’t quite fit the new rooms, but for now, it will do. I connect the TV and Yamaha system. At least we have music and pictures tonight. Around seven, we sit in the evening sun. She embraces me...radiant, settled, and so am I. The house is finished, our home is ready. We made it. Our first real house—not a row house like before, not a large apartment as a transition, but a house with a terrace, a space to walk around. Yes, now we are suburbanites, savers, homeowners, browsing garden center brochures. And that’s a good thing....Karsten
The doorbell rings. Five strong, young men eager to get started dive into the boxes and furniture. Everything quickly disappears into a large MAN truck and is already being unloaded at the new house by 11:00. We are just moving within the city, so travel time is short. By 14:00 the five finish their work. Everything intact, everything in place. We sign, give a $50 tip, and everyone receives a bottle of vodka. Then we are alone. The unpacking begins. We won’t be finished today; tomorrow is another day.
Everything feels so different. Some of our furniture doesn’t quite fit the new rooms, but for now, it will do. I connect the TV and Yamaha system. At least we have music and pictures tonight. Around seven, we sit in the evening sun. She embraces me...radiant, settled, and so am I. The house is finished, our home is ready. We made it. Our first real house—not a row house like before, not a large apartment as a transition, but a house with a terrace, a space to walk around. Yes, now we are suburbanites, savers, homeowners, browsing garden center brochures. And that’s a good thing....Karsten
Nordlys schrieb:
Jim Morrison. Let me be your backdoor man. But I think that was meant differently.[emoji56][emoji33]
Nordlys schrieb:
Jim Morrison. Let me be your backdoor man.
But I think that was meant differently.[emoji56]Uh, yeah
