Soon it's gonna rain....

I am writing on the porch at the new house. The movers came Thursday, the 15th. And the next day, Friday. And they came again yesterday, the 21st. They pronounced a completion of the project. I've been gathering up the remains at the old house today. We still haven't picked up the stragglers from the attic, the deck, the patio, the garage. But the painter is there, making all nice for the next folks to live at 1073 Beech Tree Lane.

Over at Millerwood Drive, there are boxes everywhere. Most of them are actually somewhere where they don't belong. We chip away at the job, unpacking a few boxes until backs, knees, and a bit of asthma protest enough that we call it a day. I'm tempted to get whiny about this whole process.

I called it a day about four o'clock this afternoon. I soaked in a warm tub, put on my jammies and headed for the porch. Ahhhhhhhhhhh, so now I see one of the benefits of the new place. It's going to rain soon - I can feel it. And I am in my favorite rocker on the porch, laptop in my lap on a pillow. Our deck was uncovered at the old place, so I never sat out in the rain.

Ever so often, I go lean over the rail to look at the porch we put on the attached apartment for Mom and Dad. We are anxious to have them here so close and we're making all things ready for their move-in date of November 4th. Their apartment attaches to our house via what Dave calls a skybridge. I imagine Murphy, our black and white Shi-tzu, running over to say "Good morning." I can almost hear the grandkids squealing on their way to visit GrandmaMA and GrandpaPA.

Time to stop whining about all the work. Change is always difficult, but my change is tiny compared to my parents' leaving the family farm and the big old famrhouse that my dad built, stick by stick by stick, all from salvaged materials.

I smell the rain, hear some fat drops on the driveway. Murphy and I will stay out here a while, breathing in the freshness, feeling the cool. The boxes will wait. There shall be showers of blessing...