I've been going through the attic, basement, and shed trying to determine what to bring with us on our move.
We'll be renting an apartment in Takoma Park, MD for the first year there. The apartment is within walking distance to Michael's college, which is fabulous since Michael will not have to commute (which is a big pain in the boot-ay and the tookus -both- if your in the DC area). We'll finally be able to take advantage of public transportation since we'll be a 10 minute walk away from the Metro station. Noah and I can hop on the train and within a few minutes arrive at the National Zoo (PANDAS!), or the Lincoln Memorial, or the Smithsonian, or the White House. I'm so excited that we'll be able to reduce our carbon footprint by living a more urban existence.
However, some of the good life we're enjoying here in Syracuse must be sacrificed.
Space will be limited. Even though the house we're living in was most surely built for hobbits or dwarves, it still has more space than our Takoma Park apartment will have. So I am trying to decide what is essential, and it is challenging- not because I'm some sicko hoarder- but because I'm such a nostalgic sap. Is there a difference? I hope so!
The attic is full of boxes of books. I open a box and find old friends waiting for me to pick them up again, authors from pre and post-high school, early loves of mine: J.D. Salinger, Kurt Vonnegut, Tom Robbins, David Gerrold, and oh yeah, Piers Anthony! Needless to say, I can't say goodbye. They will join us to yet another home not quite big enough for all our books. What will I do with them all? Line every wall with bookshelves bursting full? Probably.
The basement is mostly full of TOYS. Goodness gracious. Noah is only 4. Where did all this primary-colored plastic, made-in-china junk come from? Note to any family members reading this blog: please no more toys...get the boy a membership at the zoo, science museum, or gift him with YOUR PRESENCE!
Noah and I were poking around in the basement yesterday, choosing the destiny of these toys- yard sale, goodwill, or moving to DC. It was pretty sad. Noah only wanted his play doh really, but I talked him into a few other things. I must admit I got a bit teary-eyed when Noah said he didn't want his Little People anymore. Not the Noah's Ark with all the animals that mom so loves to play with? Nope. Not the School Bus with the disabled girl wearing glasses? Nope. Nope. Nope. Apparently the Little People stuff is for babies, and I have a big boy on my hands.
The shed. Oh man. I have to leave much of that to Michael to sort through. When his father died, Michael adopted all of his father's tools, 2 shop vacs, a generator, ladders, work benches, tents and camping supplies, hammocks, bocce ball set, cross country skis, etc, etc, I could honestly go on and on...
There's no way we can take it all with us. Do we really need some of this stuff? But it is painful to let things go when they remind you of someone you love who you'll never see again.
Plundering through the shed, I spied a bright neon pinkish-orangeish ladies bicycle. One of those beach cruisers. It was Michael's mom's, but I can't imagine her ever ever being seen with it, much less riding it!
I've been wanting another bike ever since mine was stolen in Gainesville at the apartments across the street form Denny's. Well, here's a bike. It's back wheel is twisted and it looks like the worst of Daytona Beach- all drunk and begging for attention. I'm going to fix her up and spray paint her...
Maybe I can transform her somehow into the Trek Atwood (seen in all her glory directly below).
I have a sneaking suspicion that the Atwood is named after one of my favorite authors.
I'll definitely give ol' Daytona Girl a new name after her makeover. The Delillo? The Kingsolver? The Neruda? Billy Collins?
Atwood WSD | Bike Path | Trek WSD Bikes
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