The other thing I haven't told you that has been causing me anxiety since, oh, May, is that we're moving to New Hampshire....this Saturday...for Hubby's new job.
We're loading the truck Friday and rolling out Saturday morning.
Much time has been spent in cleaning the house and stuffing things in boxes.
It's all very exciting.
People keep either telling Hubby what a great wife he has for supporting this OR asking him if I'm really ok with it. He says it's like people don't think we talk to each other.
When people ask me about it I say, "Well, the alternative wouldn't be good for my marriage, and I'm rather fond of Hubby." Which usually gets a good laugh.
I've also noticed that all questions are erased when we point out this is a career advancement for Hubby. No, we aren't uprooting our lives on a whim.
As for me...well, I'm not unemployed, I'm self-employed! wheeee!
You already know about my one project. As for my magazine...well, they couldn't get the tax regulations sorted out for me to be able to telecommute. Instead I'm freelancing for them, too. It seems the idea is I'm supposed to still do my job and just bill them for everything. Hmmm, well, it's income coming in so I'm running with it.
People also ask, "What about your dogs?" Which just shows how alien boarding school life is to most people. I respond, "Oh, it's no problem, pets are allowed." But what I want to say is, "They're puppies, not accessories! We wouldn't be going if our dogs weren't allowed."
Quality of Life
Is expected to sky rocket.
We won't have a commute to speak of. We're moving to a boarding school, so Hubby's commute will be walking across campus. Mine will be walking across the bedroom to the computer. How awesome is that? The puppies are thrilled.
I don't mean to rub it in, but we are soooo looking forward to that. For the last five years we've had horrible commutes because of the bad traffic. On the weekends it took me maybe 20 minutes to get to Westport Yarns but on a weekday it could take me an hour or more to get the the magazine office the next town over. Crazy, I tell you, just crazy. Hubby used to call on his way home from school around 3 o'clock just livid about traffic and calculating how many days he'd spent sitting in traffic during the year. "Yes, dear," as though I didn't sit in it, too.
But those days are over! wheeee!
The school is providing housing. A cute one bedroom apartment with a dining room. As you can see in that picture we're even going to have a fire place in the living room. And it works. And we're allowed to use it! (At our last boarding school we had a fireplace but weren't allowed to use it because the chimney needed repairs.)
If it all looks a little grungy in that picture it's because they were in the process of cleaning and painting before we could move in.
There are bay windows in the bedroom and dining room. Why is it that every time you move you have to buy new curtains?
What's that? Oh, currently we live in a three bedroom house. For five years. Yeah, we have a lot of stuff. Happily, there is a two store barn attached to our new place that we are going to share with another couple. Ahhh, free storage space. My pack-rat heart rejoices.
Oh, right, boarding school. You realize that means we're in a dorm, right? We're the first floor, there are six students on the second floor, and another faculty apartment on the third floor. He's the dorm parent. This does not phase me. For the first three years of our marriage we were in a 20 student dorm. Now, when I want to bake cookies, I won't have to cut the recipe in half anymore because teenage boys are like vacuum cleaners when it comes to baked goods.
I hope Samson and Baru adjust quickly to having other people in "their house." It's going to be a real pain if Samson starts barking every time he hears one of the students walking around, or sees one outside. He's a smart dog, he'll adjust. Right?
About That Yarn Diet
Of course, the blow in all this excitement is that I had to give up my job at Westport Yarns.
That would have been a hell of a commute for a weekend job.
I'll miss all my yarn friends, seeing their projects, and having instant access to advice on my projects.
I'm sure I'll find new yarn friends in New Hampshire, but it won't be the same.
Last month Hubby kindly asked where I'll be buying yarn going forward. I think he drugged my pancakes because I found myself saying that I could probably work from my yarn hoard for a year without a problem. And then there is the sample box from KFI.
"I see," Hubby said, and I could practically see the budget funds marked "yarn" moving to the column marked "wine."
Of course, I immediately tried to back track and explain how every season new yarns and patterns come out and the yarn I have might not work for the new patterns, etc. He nodded pleasantly, but I'm not sure he was buying it.
And don't worry about my hoard being exiled to the old, stinky barn. Noooo, what do you take me for?
Between the kitchen and the bathroom is this odd little pantry area. On the left are the hook-ups for the fridge, washer and dryer. On the right are cabinets above and below a shelf.
We've already agreed we probably won't keep food out there, mainly because we have tons of cabinets in the kitchen. I'm thinking the pantry will be combination linen closet and yarn storage.
Oh, it will be so nice to just walk across the apartment and rummage through some cupboards to get what I need.
However, I'm not forfeiting my right to store yarn in the dining room credenza.