We're moving house again. Each time we pack, it's a different story. When we moved to Taiwan, I would pack a few boxes and when I needed a rest, work on Chris and Da's wedding quilt. Jesse packed us up in Japan. He went on a three day backpacking trip right before he flew home. And he brought it up for a year how hard it was to get rid of so much stuff. This time we're working together, sometimes in tandem. We both had the realization that boxes were the way to go. Everything in a box.
Good friends are watching the kids for a couple of hours each day. I'm still working out each morning. We went strawberry picking on Wednesday. I'm either dreaming about mass murderers on the run or of packing. I'm not sure which is worse.
Our meals are getting weird and wonderful. I made pasta with sweet potatoes and ricotta cheese. The next day I realized the ricotta was way past date. Tonight we had spinach, cheese, and chicken omelets with a side of salsa. We have 5 dino bites, 4 veggie burgers, two packages of spinach, other assorted frozen vegetables, gyoza skins, and deli meat in the freezer. Lots of pasta and evaporated milk in the pantry, and a big pot of lentil soup in the fridge. Who wants to come over for dinner?
I need to find out what Jesse wants for breakfast on Father's Day. And lunch, and dinner. Or it might be a pathetic affair. And I might have packed the kitchen by then.