North vs. South

It's hard to believe that a week ago today our home was still full of boxes, furniture, and people. By last Tuesday evening, it was all loaded onto a truck and gone and there was just me, a few bags of clothing, some wine, some ammo (because you can't ship it), and the few boxes of "stuff" that I decided was important enough to keep with me in Texas. That "stuff" is probably a good window into what I value most highly in my day to day life. Items included a tea strainer, loose leaf tea, my travel mug and water bottle, our wedding album, coloring books, book - books, my pillow, and a few stuffed animals. The exercise of whittling down the stuff I most wanted and needed was, mostly, sort of fun.

Saying goodbye to our home was significantly less fun. I was entirely unprepared for the emotional tumult of standing alone in an empty house. We were only there for a year and a half but those walls still hold more memories than I can count. There were days when I loved the house and days when I hated it but, regardless, it was ours. I took my time saying goodbye. I stood in the upstairs rooms that were our little kitten's in December when we first brought her home. (She's not so little anymore and on track to outgrow her older brother.) I stood in the entryway and remembered how impossibly huge the house felt when we first moved in. (Even empty, it didn't feel so huge anymore as I said goodbye.) I took pictures of everything. And then I took a deep breath and walked away.

In the middle of a topsy turvy week, a few people in particular were amazingly supportive. Close friends of ours in Houston helped with everything from move out house cleaning, to spackling holes left behind by pictures, to giving me a place to live. We are incredibly, incredibly blessed, which all brings me around to the story I initially wanted to blog about.

We had great neighbors here in Texas. The day we moved in, they came bearing lasagna and salad for us (and about enough of both to feed us for a week). They had even thought to bring paper plates and plastic utensils, guessing correctly that we had not even begun to unpack. Though we were never as close as I might have liked, we maintained a friendship and often exchanged baked goods or just visited. As we moved out, I was oddly relieved that our neighbors were willing to take food and cleaning supplies that the movers would not move and that I could not fit in my car. I hate wasting things and it was a big weight off my mind to have so much of our last stuff go to a good home. As one of our neighbors stood with me a week ago today, watching as the moving truck was loaded, we talked about what little I knew about the new owners. I noted that I was sure (and I do sincerely hope) that they would be nicer, better neighbors than they were buyers. During the sale process they have been abrupt, pushy, and rude (not the words I used to describe them when talking to my neighbor). Her response was, to me, comical. "Well you have to remember that these people are Northerners" she said (they're from Maryland, I'm not even sure that counts) "they have that, you know, Northern attitude that we don't have hear in the South, they're just not the same as us."

I laughed and agreed and silently wondered if I should be flattered or upset. I went with flattered. I'm from too many places by now to know if I'm Northern or Southern and I suspect that I'm more than a little of both. Regardless, the exchange left me laughing on more than one level and highly bemused and that's a pretty good note to part on.