Alright, I can say what you want me to.
Dear Goddess, the last few days have been a literal whirlwind of activity, and I have had time for (almost) nothing.
It's been almost a week since Shannon and I moved into Godric's Hollow, and every day it just feels more and more like home here. It's so exquisitely comfortable, and it's wonderful for both of us to have so very much space to ourselves.
Most of our belongings remain unpacked, but that's no big problem. I mean, hey it's our house, and it's not like someone is going to come in and yell at us for not being organized!
There have been all of these little moments of discovery in the process of relocating our lives, and I do not speak here of discovering that our dryer does not work properly, or that our water bill is possibly included in our rent. I mean that, as I remove all of my worldly possessions from three cardboard boxes and a Barnes & Noble tote bag, I'm finding a slew of little things that make me happy. While excavating my clothes boxes, I unearthed the little moon chimes that I received as a gift from Amy last summer. This little golden moon and its three attendant bells are now hanging from the ceiling fan in the middle of my bedroom, and I reach out to give them a jingle every time I pass them. They say they sound of bells dispels negative energy, and I believe it.
Another of these happy moments came when I began to unpack my books. The simple act of extracting all of my literature from its cardboard prison took about an hour on its own, and by the time I had finished there was a pile of books, roughly the size of a pile of small children, taking up most my bedroom floor. It filled my heart with simple joy to see that I have nowhere near enough shelf space to house all of my books.
May this house be a good home. So mote it be.
It's been almost a week since Shannon and I moved into Godric's Hollow, and every day it just feels more and more like home here. It's so exquisitely comfortable, and it's wonderful for both of us to have so very much space to ourselves.
Most of our belongings remain unpacked, but that's no big problem. I mean, hey it's our house, and it's not like someone is going to come in and yell at us for not being organized!
There have been all of these little moments of discovery in the process of relocating our lives, and I do not speak here of discovering that our dryer does not work properly, or that our water bill is possibly included in our rent. I mean that, as I remove all of my worldly possessions from three cardboard boxes and a Barnes & Noble tote bag, I'm finding a slew of little things that make me happy. While excavating my clothes boxes, I unearthed the little moon chimes that I received as a gift from Amy last summer. This little golden moon and its three attendant bells are now hanging from the ceiling fan in the middle of my bedroom, and I reach out to give them a jingle every time I pass them. They say they sound of bells dispels negative energy, and I believe it.
Another of these happy moments came when I began to unpack my books. The simple act of extracting all of my literature from its cardboard prison took about an hour on its own, and by the time I had finished there was a pile of books, roughly the size of a pile of small children, taking up most my bedroom floor. It filled my heart with simple joy to see that I have nowhere near enough shelf space to house all of my books.
May this house be a good home. So mote it be.