Peaches come from a can...

Getting ready to move does funny things to your mind. We haven't even got to the point where we're deep in the throes of packing (which are less sexy than the throes of passion, but feature just as many noises), and we're already starting to think of things in terms of boxes. As in, that dictionary is like a third of a box; why don't we sell it?

Selling books is something we haven't done before, but this move, we were determined to cull the collection a bit. We have made over $200 selling books. This is really cool and exciting until you stop to think about how much we paid for them initially. We have decided not to do that, and so we're still excited. We are down to two bookshelves, the books in our built-in cabinets, and our cookbook collection, which for us is downright paltry.

The alternative to selling is, of course, donating, and we've done an awful lot of that lately too. Everything is up for grabs. The bigger an item is and the closer it gets to go time, the more tempting it is to get rid of. The ice cream maker was even considered. It's got to be about a quarter of a box, especially since it's an awkward shape and nothing can be put inside of it. In the end, it got to stay because it provides sweet, delicious, homemade ice cream, and what other appliance does anything that cool? (Immersion blender, I'm looking at you.)

Ultimately it doesn't matter. We have so much stuff, and we are people who try to keep our lives as simple as possible. We don't have knick knacks. But we do have a couch, and three chairs, and a loveseat, and two desk chairs, and two bookshelves, and a bed, and a mattress, and box springs, and a dresser, and a night stand, and, well you get the idea. The husband was telling me about a guy at Columbia College who was doing some sort of project documenting his efforts to only have 100 things. Food didn't count, I don't think, nor did things built into his home (the toilet, for example). But just think of all the things you need just to eat a meal: silverware, plate, clothing. If you count each thing as a single item, it adds up fast. I'm sure it must be a freeing way to live. I know we've been trying to move in that direction, but I don't think we'll ever get that far. Although I might change my tune on moving day. I bet you fit all 100 things in, like, 5 boxes.

By the way, do any of you remember the band The Presidents of the United States of America? Their big hit was "Lump" but they also had a minor hit in "Peaches". Every time the husband and I talk about moving to the country, in my head I have to add "Gonna eat me a lot of peaches." This isn't doing good things to my psyche. Just thought I'd share.

Things I Have Been Doing Instead of Blogging

1.) Making peace with the overwhelming presence of termites. They are confined to our back stairway, completely external to the actual unit. Thanks to them, we might get a nicer, less moldy and horrifying back stairway. So yay termites? Well, maybe not, but at least they're not eating the floor beneath me. (Knock on non-termitey wood.)

2.) Revising my novel. Back when the husband and I were not getting lucky in Kentucky (we had sex, mind you, but that was about the only positive thing we had), we did this thing called National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo to the cool kids). We did not do it in the official month of November, but we did it, and both produced a novel. The husband hated his, said it wasn't cohesive, and used certain plot elements in the jottings that he does when he is in a writing mood. Mine was pretty cohesive, actually. And not altogether bad.

The thing about NaNoWriMo, though, is that you have to write a certain number of words (1,500, I believe) every day for a month. Every. Single. Day. So towards the end, I started to get a little bit punchy and just throw in elements of my own life. I have been meaning to go back to it for a while now, and this period of intentional unemployment seemed as good a time as any. Honestly, it's not awful. If all goes according to plan, I'll finish revising it in the next few weeks, and maybe, possibly, hopefully send query letters to agents. I hesitated to share this one, but a little peer pressure wouldn't hurt here, so don't be afraid to nag me.

3.) Knitting far overdue socks.

I'm pretty pleased with how they turned out, but they took absolutely forever. I went for weeks without working on them because they pissed me off so much. But now they're done, and they're pretty, so yay. Onto the next pair. These are starting off late, so we'll see when they actually get done.

4.) Losing all sense of time management. When I started, I had lists every day, and I got shit done. Somehow I lost that in the past two weeks or so. I am much like the children whom I used to lead in storytime. I need structure. I need someone to say, "Hey, just a few more minutes of cover letter time, and then we'll do a story!"

5.) Not getting employed or selling a condo. I am trying to stay upbeat and positive, so I'll say no more there.