Tired. Quiet.

Quiet. Tired.

Those two words pretty much sum it up right now.

My thoughts are actually not that quiet. They’re racing and wrestling, they’re just not forming written words very much at the moment. Or at least not written words that are suitable for public consumption.

Tired.

Well, tired says it all. Moving is a much more exhausting process than I remembered. I don’t understand those people who love moving, and do it frequently.

My roommate and I are taking it slowly wherever we can. I got rid of my much admired “loft bed” and desk in the process of this move, and, while not precisely regretting it, am definitely not going to be able to handle sleeping on my mattress on the floor for very long. I want some sort of captains bed – with drawers or a bookshelf underneath to give the bed some height and me some storage space. My roommate and I are going to Ikea tonight in a hunt for a number of little items we need to make our new space homey and liveable. I need to look at a bed, she needs a duvet. We jointly need things like picture hanging hooks. I need lavender scented candles.

Also high on my list of priorities will be to buy and put up blinds or curtains in my bedroom. My bedroom faces east, and with no window covering, I’ll be up with the birds all summer if I don’t resolve the situation. I have enough trouble sleeping without adding that.

We’ve declared tonight a “slow night”. We’ll visit Ikea when we meet up after work. We’re cooking pork chops with a cinnamon peach sauce, and probably some frozen veggies and either potatoes or couscous for dinner. We’re going to sit on our couch and watch either a movie or television for the evening. I’ll unpack the bookshelf in our living room. While we’re sitting we’ll collapse all the filing boxes and their lids that I purchased for moving, and then we’ll store them in our basement for the next time (which will hopefully not be for a while.)

Hopefully internet at home will be up and running by tomorrow morning, and I can back to a more regular schedule of blogging, reading the news, and checking emails.

July 1st

Today we take possession of our new house.

From today until Thursday sometime (if all goes well) we'll be without phone and internet at home. So blogging will probably be slow for a few days.

I admit that my case of nerves is back a bit again this morning. New things always frighten me and stress me out.

They make me reclusive - which is a bit of a challenge when you're trying to settle into a new home, with a roommate from another country who doesn't have any friends in Calgary except yourself and the other roommate. Only problem is that our other roommate is currently enjoying a beach in France, and, according to the email she sent us on Monday, getting "hit on" by French men who "just can't help themselves."

Happy Canada Day!

And, a friend informs me that I also need to know that today is Rwanda Day as well. That made me smile when she told me last night.

There were other things that made me smile last night too... special, quiet, private things that I'm so thankful for.

I like new days, new weeks, even new months. Funny that I like those sorts of new things and not the other sorts of new things.

Bruised!

I'm telling you now that I must be one of the most easily bruised objects on the planet.

I bruise the way over-ripe fruit bruises.

After moving on Saturday, I woke up Sunday morning, headed for the shower, and noticed that all parts of my body are bruised. There are bruises on parts of my body that I don't remember coming in contact with anything over the course of moving.

Today, out of interest, I counted. There are 21 bruises (all relatively small and minor) spread across nearly my entire body. I look like someone beat me up with a tiny hammer.

Ah well... such is life I suppose.

The Scream

Artist Edvard Munch commented about the inspiration for this painting coming while he was out walking with two friends, "My friends walked on—I stood there, trembling with fear. And I sensed a great, infinite scream pass through nature."

I was caught by that quote when it arrived in an email this morning.

I've sensed that scream at moments, in little ways.

I feel it myself a bit these days.

I'm caught by this painting today.

Three Words

How can three simple words be so profoundly calming and restorative?

He’s three. A bundle of energy and muscle. Always moving. Always intense. He waved at me when I walked in, and grinned from across the room, but was engrossed in a television show and didn’t come over to greet me.

When he finally came over, he motioned for me to come down to his level. I squatted, now eye-level with him, my knees nearly touching his.

He whispered. “I like you.” Except that he’s three, and it sounded more like “I ike you.”

My heart began to smile. It wasn't a fluke when he said it the last time I'd visited. It seems this is how I'm to be greeted by this child.

I asked him for a hug, and gathered his little body into my arms. “I like you too.” A quick tickle and I let him go.

Those three words went farther in that moment towards soothing my jangled soul than all the other things I’d tried or used to bring about that soothing on a day when much soothing was required.

I carry them with me, close to my heart into today, and this week, and this month.