All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say good-bye
But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
Taxi's waiting, he's blowin' his horn...
-Peter, Paul, and Mary
We spent our last day in the United States moving out of our apartment. For the last two months we have lived in a friend's partial apartment. She pitied our homeless state while we transitioned from home ownership to living abroad. Even though the apartment is fully furnished and cozy, we still managed to cram a lot of food, books, papers, shoes, computer equipment, and cleaning supplies into the apartment's nooks and crannies. It took two trips with a full-size vehicle to move everything out.
With our bags packed, and our car sold at the final minute yesterday, we feasted on a grandiose meal of prime rib, scalloped potatoes, squash, and salad prepared by birdMAN's mom and sister. A great sendoff after an insane week of worrying whether the car will sell, trying to decide how many shoes to bring, and asking how many tubes of toothpaste and deodorants will last us the year.
The dinner felt strangely normal and casual. Our parents reminiscing raising children and lamenting the state of the economy. Caden and Milan running laps around the staircase and pretending they are lions. Zephram, not yet stable enough to walk, trying to keep up with his older brother. birdMAN and his brothers-in-law discussing the first documented transportation of a photon, time travel, and the rabbit hole. Yes, there were a few bottles of wine opened and emptied.
Then the time came to kiss my sisters goodbye and shed a few tears. I pinched the chubby thighs of my 11-month old nephew. My mom told me she was afraid we would love living somewhere else and we would never come back. But we aren't turning back now. The plane takes off at 1:45 pm tomorrow.
Countdown until take-off: 13 hours
I'm standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say good-bye
But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
Taxi's waiting, he's blowin' his horn...
-Peter, Paul, and Mary
We spent our last day in the United States moving out of our apartment. For the last two months we have lived in a friend's partial apartment. She pitied our homeless state while we transitioned from home ownership to living abroad. Even though the apartment is fully furnished and cozy, we still managed to cram a lot of food, books, papers, shoes, computer equipment, and cleaning supplies into the apartment's nooks and crannies. It took two trips with a full-size vehicle to move everything out.
With our bags packed, and our car sold at the final minute yesterday, we feasted on a grandiose meal of prime rib, scalloped potatoes, squash, and salad prepared by birdMAN's mom and sister. A great sendoff after an insane week of worrying whether the car will sell, trying to decide how many shoes to bring, and asking how many tubes of toothpaste and deodorants will last us the year.
The dinner felt strangely normal and casual. Our parents reminiscing raising children and lamenting the state of the economy. Caden and Milan running laps around the staircase and pretending they are lions. Zephram, not yet stable enough to walk, trying to keep up with his older brother. birdMAN and his brothers-in-law discussing the first documented transportation of a photon, time travel, and the rabbit hole. Yes, there were a few bottles of wine opened and emptied.
Then the time came to kiss my sisters goodbye and shed a few tears. I pinched the chubby thighs of my 11-month old nephew. My mom told me she was afraid we would love living somewhere else and we would never come back. But we aren't turning back now. The plane takes off at 1:45 pm tomorrow.
Countdown until take-off: 13 hours
Not all of this fit in my suitcase |
"What is the meaning of the universe?" |
The squash came from my dad's yard |
Caden |
Zephram |
Trying to keep it together for the goodbye |
Before bedtime, Milan was kind enough to paint birdMAN's toes (in the back) |