Unpacking

We have been taking the time to move into our new house slowly, for a couple of reasons. First, with working full time and parenting, you just can't set any speed records. We plan to be here for a while, so once we found all of the things we need to use on a daily basis, there was no more need to rush. We are now unpacking at a snail's pace.

Second, we've got stuff in boxes that has been there for years. Some stuff got moved to our last place in boxes and never made it out of those boxes. We are taking the time here to go through each one, purge what we don't need, and organize what we do need. Also, I think I have finally escaped the season of life when I collected all of the free junk I could come by, just because it was free. Now I'm only keeping it if I will really use it. Otherwise it goes in the Goodwill pile. Even if it was a really great bargain to start with.

We are discovering some things in the unpacking process:

Best discovery (Josh): the hand-carved 82nd Airborne plaque he had made in Haiti ("This is one of the coolest things I own!"). He had totally forgotten about it until he found it in a pile tonight.

Most time-capsule-ish discovery (Lindy): a letter I wrote to Lori Ferguson, who was at Cedarville University, about a month into my freshman year at Taylor. I had written it, stuck it in an envelope, and sealed it, but never mailed it. It has been sitting in a pile of old stationery for 15 years.

Saddest discovery (Lindy): Somehow the box containing my Little House on the Prairie books got wet, and they are ruined. I read those books so many times I can't count, and I was very much looking forward to reading them aloud and passing them on to our kids. The books can definitely be bought again, but I am sad to have lost that set.

Also, a kind of strange realization I have made: For the first eighteen years of my life, I was very stationary. I lived in the house that my great grandfather had built—the same house where my dad had lived since he was seven. On the same block where my whole family had lived for four (five?) generations. Then, when I left for college, I suddenly became very transient. Depending on how you count, I moved somewhere between 14 and 18 times in 15 years. This current move has (hopefully) ushered in a new season, and I am realizing that I might actually stay here for a good long time. It's a different kind of feeling, and I like it.