Moving. It has become something I aspire to avoid at all costs. We have moved too often of late. Yes, like everything we practice often in life, we know HOW to move. But that doesn't make it any more fun. There have been some moments in the last few weeks where all we could do was sink down into a pile of packing material and groan, "are we really doing this again?"
The thing about moving to a new city is that you have to learn new patterns. Over time, we make grooves in our lives. This helps us keep some order in what otherwise might become a frantic mess. For example, you know the guy you buy your Friday paper from at the corner of Zia and St. Francis's name is Bob. Eventually you find out that his daughter works at the same hospital as you do but you suspect he hasn't talked to her in many years. You also suspect he mostly sleeps under the bridge and you give him an extra dollar because he is always there and always tells you to have a good day. Every day except Monday, 12 hours a day. Monday is his day off.
You learn all the back ways to every business on Cerrillos Road because traffic there is bad but the rest of town is cake. Only the tourists drive on Cerrillos.
You know which coffee shop newstand carries the craft magazine you love but just haven't somehow subscribed to yet and you also know that the new edition won't be on the shelf until a few days into the new month. These kinds of delays are to be expected in New Mexico.
You know the guy at the pizza place who doesn't speak English won't get your gluten free order right but if you ask for his daughter to take the order he will make you the best pizza in the world. And this is the best course of action until your Spanish gets better.
And now you know which liquor stores have the divided boxes great to pack glasses in and where to get boxes to pack books and how amazingly great my Lena Street Lofts landlady really is and whether my studio and all our household stuff really fits in the biggest UHaul possible (it does. barely.)
When you move, the patterns are gone. I did go to graduate school in Fort Collins, the city we just moved to. But despite my youthful appearance and tendency to act like a total goof, I completed that graduate degree over 17 years ago. The city is not the same and my old grooves are completely gone now. I'll have to find new trails, a new library, new fiber stores, new bookstores, and the REI.
So yes, I have moved again. It has been a crazy couple of weeks and I am exhausted, dirty, and I can't find my favorite hat or my bike pump.
Yarn makes a great packing material. I had plenty of it.