The best part of our move was getting rid of the bed. Eric has had this bed since college, and it is uncomfortable and has all sort of corners to damage oneself on. I have wanted a new bed for years, and a new bed has never been a priority. It has gradually lost several parts and is more and more dangerous. When we return from our sojourn in Ecuador, we will have to go bed shopping!
My packing skills have deteriorated the longer I am at it. Finally, I just threw things in boxes, not really caring much about what went in which box. I will have to look forward to being more selective when we unpack the boxes. Eric and I did finally get into a pattern: I packed and he moved the boxes. I had to work hard to keep him on task; I'd find him wandering off and getting distracted. He finally became too tired and fell asleep in a heap on the floor in the living room. He was unaware that I joined him early in the morning. It did not seem fair that he kept sleeping after I was awoken, so I urged him to get moving.
Eric and I have done well together with this move. We are so different in how we approach things, but that worked for us. I found myself swearing at him with affection last night, and tried to say the most foul things I could about him, and he laughed at me, perhaps because I do not usually speak that way, and the words don't suit me at all. I kept upping the ante and came up with more and more offensive language, which made him laugh even more.
We had a ceremony to say good-bye to the bed before I left. I felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Eric with the final tasks of getting the house ready. On the other hand, I have been home alone for weeks packing nightly, so it was hardly agonizingly difficult to leave. The cleaners were coming at noon, so Eric had a deadline, which is good for him. I was off with Maya to Woods Hole. This was not convenient at all. The expectation was that Eric would be in Woods Hole this week and that we would spend the time together. We did not expect the packing to take so long; Eric was to drive to Boston and meet us there. We debated just driving up together on Monday (Eric has some other tasks to accomplish Monday) or changing our flight to another day, but the cost was deemed too high. It is not possible to be in Woods Hole without a car, so I had reserved a rental at Boston Logan, but when I arrived at Dollar Rent a Car, I was told that in MA I had to pay an extra $21 daily for insurance, so I decided not to rent, and called my brother-in-law Thierry to pick us up. We were starving, so we ate in an outside cafe near Newbury Street, and then went for ice-dream at JPLicks,w here the line for ice-cream snaked down the block. Thierry brought us to the harbour to look at the tall ships, which were open to visitors, but the lines to enter the boats were too long, so we admired them from the dock. Thierry drove us around Boston, from Back Bay to South Boston, to the Italian neighbourhood in the north, to Charlestown, around MIT, and Beacon Hill. The city has great energy, especially in the sunshine. The women look wonderful in their summer dresses, and everyone appears to be enjoying the lovely weather. We are staying in Boston for the night and perhaps even into tomorrow, I am not sure I want to be in Woods Hole alone without Eric, and I have no car, which is necessary to buy groceries and get to the laundry. The Benichous come for a four day visit late Sunday night.
I like not having anything pressing on me to get moving or accomplish anything. I am feeling free and untethered. The house holds onto me, demands my time, demands my efforts. I have let go of the house, we are both free of each other. I have moved on , moved out. Yeah!
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