Wednesday, August 8, 2018

Literatura Interrupta by Andrea Downing


Some time ago, on one of many household moves I’ve made in my lifetime, I was told that moving is one of the three most stressful life events—up there with Death and Divorce.  It certainly has proved to be the case this time around.  If any more could go wrong, I certainly don’t want to know about it.
       First, there were negotiations to buy, during which the seller’s lawyer dropped  dead.  One afternoon my lawyer chatted away with him, the next morning he had passed. After a brief time for the firm to recoup and mourn, the legalities of buying proceeded and eventually reached conclusion. 
     Next up was getting bids from 3 contractors for what I thought was going to be a breezy remodel. One contractor dropped out after a few weeks.  Things in the Hamptons heat up around March because there’s a short season of ‘doing’ which I had hit.  Had I been asking for bids in November, my guess is I would have had these companies knocking at my door. But in any event, I hired a project manager/contractor who dealt with the subcontractors and work proceeded.  I even went away for a spell.  Problems then were few—a couple of changes in plans here, a few tile shortages there, a fan without a light shade, a matching mirror for which there was no room.  Stuff.

     By May, my former house was on the market, with me thinking it would never sell and I’d have to rent it out.  Why?  Every reason from overhead power lines, a mice infestation, a rooster next door, proximity to a main road, noisy neighbors, and dodgy plumbing.  I forecast a year to sell in this summer community.  It sold in three weeks.  And not only that, the buyer wanted to be in a.s.a.p.  Even the bank wouldn’t cooperate with her desired date of June 28, nor could we make July 20 after she went on vacation for a month. She was in July 27, I was out, and virtually camping in my new home. 

      The work is pretty much done but the unpacking is not—and the problems have just begun.  Air conditioning that doesn’t reach the hot attic top floor, a water treatment system that hadn’t been serviced in years and was sending out yellow water after being serviced—and now has to be replaced; a new water tank needed; a security system installed; shades installed; endless irrigation problems; and the never-ending unpacking.  Packing must be an art, but it’s one most moving firms haven’t yet acquired.  I find lids that don’t belong to anything else in the box, a single glass without its mates, part of a dustbuster, or the cradle for a telephone.  The dumpster outside is filling with cartons but the cartons seem to be having babies.  And where am I going to put all my books?!
     The more junk one acquires, the more tethered to a place you are.  I’d love to throw all this away and live in an RV but my daughter persists in telling me she needs me and RV places do not abound in NY.  But I’m away from the rooster and the road, on a quiet cul de sac next to a reserve.  I’ve been a lousy ‘friend’ for the past few months, not ‘liking’, commenting, responding, promoting, voting and so on, but hopefully things will now get back to normal.  I’ve decided to start with half days of unpacking and half days writing in order to meet deadlines.
I hope.

And this has gone on so long, the last thing I published was City Boy, Country Heart.  I can barely remember it, but if you haven’t got a copy it’s available at https://www.amazon.com/City-Boy-Country-Heart-Contemporary-ebook/dp/B07DN2S3F1/    Reviews welcome and greatly appreciated.
Rodeo star and rancher Chay Ridgway has left Wyoming to follow his girlfriend, K.C. Daniels, to New York. Leaving behind all he knows for a small bite of the Big Apple, Chay discovers the canyons of city streets may be too claustrophobic for this cowboy, especially when the trauma is compounded by the fact K.C.’s parents dislike him, their housemate is a harridan, friends are few, and the only job he can get is rounding up dinner plates. 
As K.C. continues her two years of study for her Master’s degree, can she also continue to keep a rein on Chay’s heart? Will this cowboy become a city boy, or will the wide-open spaces of Wyoming call his country heart home?

16 comments:

Leah St. James said...

Oh dear...I'm having nightmarish flashbacks of my move from Jersey to Virginia. In addition to our personal stuff, I had to move my work "stuff" (I was allowed to work remotely for a time). I was packing at home and work, throwing things in boxes willy nilly, throwing things in the trash willy nilly, cleaning until my fingers were numb. My husband, sons and I pulled out of Jersey at 4 a.m. on a Saturday, our 18-foot (?) U-Haul plus two vehicles stuffed to the gills. Since then we moved from that apartment to our townhouse, but at least we had the sense to hire movers the second time around. We still have unpacked boxes from that first move, and at this point (11 years later), I don't even care what's in them! I truly feel your pain. Your new home sounds lovely--love the kitchen! Enjoy the peace and closeness to your daughter. And get back to writing! :-)

Diane Burton said...

I was told the same thing, Andie, about moving. True, true, true! With our other moves, the company took care of it. The last one, we had to. Can we say purge? Books are heavy, and we were paying by the pound since it was an intrastate move. Books went to our local library for their monthly sale. Unpacking took forever, since Hubs wanted to finish the basement himself rather than pay $50k for the builder to do it. Did I say I married a Scotsman? Despite some problems (none like yours, Andie) we settled in and I've never been happier with a move. I still can't believe it's been 5 years. Good luck finding everything you need when you need it.

Margo Hoornstra said...

The last time we moved was in 1978. Shortly after, we had three feet of water in the basement where many of the unpacked boxes were. To this day, I'm not sure what was in them that we lost because I haven't missed anything. Then we bought a fifth wheel and I ended up putting half of my kitchen utensils and such out there. (Who knew I'd acquired double or so of most everything?) Now I'm getting the itch to down size, but we just replaced the flooring in the kitchen and dining room and repainted those rooms plus the living room. My husband swears he's not going ANYWHERE for a while. Your house looks beautiful. Good luck with the unpacking AND writing. Dividing your time between sounds like a plan!

Jannine Gallant said...

Our last move was from a tiny rental to our current house my husband built the year after we got married. That was nearly 22 years ago, and I was 7 months pregnant while we were hauling pickup loads of possessions the two miles from one one place to the other. I don't remember it being traumatic. Probably because it was so close. Now we have a TON of crap we probably don't need. At this point, the idea of moving gives me the chills... Best of luck getting settled and back to writing!

Brenda Whiteside said...

You have had a time of it. But moving has been a way of life for FDW and me. If I remember right, we're in our 22nd or maybe 23rd home. The amount of stuff I've packed over the years looks like a bell curve. I really shed a lot with the last couple of times. I do remember one move, using movers, that when I unpacked I found a half full trash can, but never did find some of my son's artwork. Made me sad.

Andrea Downing said...

Leah, I can't envisage trying to do all the moving on your own. My daughter and sil helped me pack up cartons of small items to try to save $ from the movers and we did several trips to the house with those, but a whole move, no way! I've moved about 8 times, including internationally, and nothing has quite taken it out of me like this one. Maybe it's age? And I'm sure I'll have unpacked boxes 11 years from now--if I live that long!

Andrea Downing said...

Diane, for some reason all my former homes have had enough book shelf space--not this one. I'm going to have some shelves installed above my desk, have a few other small bookshelves scattered about, but whatever doesn't fit goes to the Ladies Village Improvement Society out here (otherwise known as LVIS)--yup, have to cut down. I never thought I'd say thank goodness for eBooks!

Andrea Downing said...

Margo, I envy you your longevity in situ--stay put. Downsizing isn't worth the hassle! And, yes, if you don't miss it, you didn't need it--I'm sure I'll feel similarly.

Andrea Downing said...

Jannine, as I said to Margo--stay put! Shortly after my daughter was born, my husband got a new job and we moved from Wales to London--new baby, new job and new house is quite a combination, but moving when pregnant must beat that. I'm wondering if you had to change doctors and so on--I guess if it was only 2 miles, probably not. And you're lucky to be in a house your husband built--that must be exactly the way you want things..

Andrea Downing said...

Goodness, Brenda, you beat me on the move numbers by a long shot. You must be a pro by now. I'm hoping this will be the last with the exception of having a room in my daughters' future home. Then I can get rid of some of this stuff on her!

Rolynn Anderson said...

After what my husband and I have put into our CA home, I'm sticking! The longest I've ever lived in a house is 18 years. The life of an Army brat and inveterate 'mover' is all about seeking new horizons. But I'm done. Love my house and new yard. Now plan to enjoy it. I know you will, too, Andi. I want to see pics when you've completely moved in. You've got a great start...big, pretty kitchen!

Andrea Downing said...

Ah, Rolynn, 18 years is a good run as far as I';m concerned. Most of my moves have been after 10 years, though the last East Hampton house I owned for 20--but that was half while living in London so it was only a part-year residence bought when my daughter decided she was going to attend university in the USA. I'm praying the next time I move it will be some years from now--and into an urn!

Alison Henderson said...

Oh, Andi, this really strikes a chord. I'm just back from a week at my daughter's new condo trying to help OG with the umpteen things that need to be done before she moves in Saturday morning. Painting, electrical, cleaning, new faucet, disposal installation, tile repair, etc. And just like you, everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and then some! I'm glad you're in--can't wait 'til she is, too. There's always plenty to do after the move, but it's good to put that big change behind you.

Andrea Downing said...

Alison, good luck to your daughter and I hope she'll be happy in her new home. I'm sure mine is not a lone tale, and when I look about I feel very lucky. I just wish to hell it was over and I could relax!

Vonnie Davis said...

People keep asking me if I'm going to stay on here now that Calvin is gone. I can't fathom another move. As it is I've had all but two bedrooms re-painted and am not "thrilled" with all the colors I chose when my mind was so muddled with grief. I should have waited, but I thought staying busy was good. I should have crawled in the bed and hidden from life for a while. Moving is a traumatic thing. I don't envy you. Work at your own pace. Being happy is so important.

Andrea Downing said...

Oh, Vonnie, the decisions we make and later regret! I was told to live in a place for a while before remodeling but that just wasn't possible so now I'm waiting to see if the decisions I made were good or bad. Don't move. I'm sure your house has many wonderful memories attached to it and you don't need the hassles on top of everything else you've been through.