Some people are the ditch diggers and others are the guys in the yellow hats directing them where to dig. Lately, I’ve manned the shovel and have been slogging it out. I’ve got lists of everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, that needs to be done to close down a house in the U.S., and what needs to be done to create a home in Valencia.
Some people count sheep at night. I go down my lists, and it’s not conducive to slumber. And when I do get to sleep, I’ve been having nightmares that include my linen closet coming to life, emptying itself out (something on my list to do) and coming for me. Sort of like the raggy-covered Dementors in Harry Potter. I awaken in a panic and then I’m up for hours wondering what brought that on.
During waking hours, I’ve looked around the house and cataloged what we have and set a date for when I thought we should post furniture, etc. on Craigslist. Timing, I felt, would be key, because we still need to live here, for now. We will need something to sit on, have a TV to watch, towels to bathe with and dishes to eat off, until the end of February. I have discussed this at length with Jeff. He has listened to my musings and then he got to work.
Knowing I’ve been losing sleep, Jeff went around and took pictures of all the things we are looking to get rid of. Then he created a website and posted fliers at his office this morning. By noon, he had sold everything. EVERYTHING!! All of my planning. All of my strategizing on the timing. Yeah, he did none of that. People are apparently coming on Saturday to take it all away.
So my nightmares have just changed from those I have during the night, to the ones I’m having during the day. We have a little more than three months go before we leave. I loved the minimalism of the Camino, but my house is now a Spanish ALBERGUE, but with less services – like a bed.
I’m leaving for Valencia next week to open a bank account, meet with a lawyer and to rent a flat. I’ll come home late, the night before Thanksgiving and I’m concerned I will find I now sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor and am cooking Thanksgiving dinner on a stick over a fire in the back yard. I hope he’ll leave me a wash cloth and that I’ll have a car to drive.
His initiative is admirable, but it will be interesting to see what our Thanksgiving guests will be eating off of, sitting on, or where they will set a wine glass. Wait! I’m not sure we still have wine glasses. OR WINE!