Soul Sucking

There is simply no other way to describe it - moving can be an absolute and utter soul sucking exercise.  

Despite taking three days to pack, bag and box things with the help from my inlays and my wife's aunt and uncle, the process of dragging my family's stuff from one house to another was an effort I'd rather never repeat again.  I do believe that if ever there was an experience that would resemble the ripping of one's life essence from their body, I daresay I could now relate to it.  Vampires and soul leeching entities beware, I can now sense it happening before it is too late!

After living in our first home for eight years, we finally decided that, two children and their accoutrements and toys later, we had outgrown our semi-detached.  After four months of searching and dealing with the sale of our own house, we finally committed to and bought a new house.  I dare not say home, as I can't quite relate to it as "home" just yet.  Home is more the sense of belonging and familiarity you develop with your surroundings; you've developed your habits, tendencies and instinctively know where things are and when they out of place.  Less than a week in, we can't call it "home" yet.

My two girls took to the change remarkably well.  The first night was an absolute gong show, more so because of the fast food, lack of sleep and general over-tiredness that makes little kids into demon-djinni of immeasurable reserves of energy and equal amounts of dim-wittedness.  Don't get me wrong, I love my girls, they just picked the wrong two days to bananas on me.  I mean full blown B-A-N-A-N-A-S.  Parents with two kids under the age of five will instantly relate.  For those of you about to start, beware.  For those of you without kids, I have only scowls.

My wife had a more emotional response, which she is apt to have when lacking sleep.  For her, the old house was a near physical thing she had to detach from.  We bought the house, got married and raised our two girls there, making wonderful memories along the way.  To her, the move was more than a step up to a newer, larger home.  It was like ripping out a part of herself.  During our final clean and inspection, I found her crying no less than three times.  My consolations only went so far.

All this said, we now have many more memories waiting to be created, new discoveries and challenges to overcome.  For myself, I can't wait to make my house into a home, particularly the little niche in the basement I carved out for myself as my man-cave slash inspiration and typing room.

Two Glorious Sights

The first, any homeowner will likely know about, if not shudder at their memories of the process.  When a real estate agent places that SOLD sign on your front lawn, it’s a magical moment.  As mine was fixing that innocent little placard atop our sign, it was all I could do not to go out there and help her out.  I almost convinced myself too:  “She’s only 5’6”, and that’s with the heels.” “She’s in a skirt suit for crying out loud, go help the woman!” “Boy, I’m glad I mowed the grass before she showed up.”

The second is really something only those who have acquired the taste for scotch will appreciate.  The Macallan distilleries have come out with a new way of branding their single malts.  Normally associated with ages (12 years old, 15, 18, 25, etc.), the 1824 series is marketed by its colour.  Going from Gold, Amber, Sienna and finally Ruby, they gain a deeper luster as one increases in price.  After a bit of research, I went with the Amber for my first try, and I must say this is a treat to drink.  The nose is abundant, the palate a little less than expected, yet a nice finish to round it out.

Of course, combining these two sights together only makes the whole greater than the sum of the parts!