Slowly, slowly

Winter                                                                                 Settling Moon

IMAG0902The wall space necessary for rebuilding the IKEA bookshelves is free. Almost all of the books are deboxed. (well. deplane, detrain) Slowly, slowly. But steadily.

(the loft before any unpacking had begun)

The temperature here, right now, is 56. 56! Apparently not unusual for this period of January it collides directly with my pulling inward as the third week of January approaches. That’s the coldest week of the year on average in Minnesota and often means well below zero readings. And here we are with even the ice preserved by the shade of a lodgepole pine grove melting. In spite of the Minnesota we-will-not-be-stopped-by-the-cold attitude, forty years of fortitude lifted to a civic virtue, this feels pretty good.

from another point of view
from another point of view

Less than 10 book boxes remain, but they will wait until the ones I’ve emptied have been flattened and the bookshelves are up. Then, only then, can I begin the process of creating a library especially for my current projects. The classics and their supporting literature will get their own area, so will all of my art books, poetry, books related to Colorado and the West. Once those areas are in place, then the remainder of the books will find homes: Asia, Islam, travel, depth psychology, the Renaissance, Modernism, the Enlightenment, Romanticism, history, Celtic studies, Scandinavian studies, Lake Superior, environmental matters and others.

A Pile of Cardboard Measures Progress

Winter                                                                             Settling Moon

IMAG0927_BURST002The changes keep coming. Today the Colorado plates go on the Rav4. They complement the Colorado Driver’s license already in my wallet. The boxes have begun to diminish in number as the pile outside, Kate’s measure of our progress grows. We use the window as a cardboard portal, opening it and shoving emptied, flattened boxes through it.

In the loft perhaps 80% of the book boxes are empty, flattened and downstairs. They are not on the pile shown here.

Certain rhythms have reasserted themselves. The dogs are in their crates now over night. With the exception, usually, of Kepler. Kate and I watch an episode of Midsomer Murders before she goes to bed. We’re in the 14th of 15 seasons. Our business meetings continue, before they were at Key’s on University in Spring Lake Park, now they’re at the Wildwood Cafe in Evergreen.

Others have not. My treadmill and weights and pull-up bar are in the loft, but not yet ready because the most important component of my work-outs, the television, remains in the house. It’s too heavy for even Jon and me to move, a 50″ plasma, and will require some outside help to get up the stairs and into place on its stand. I know this seems like an odd reason, but I find weights and treadmill work boring. The TV distracts me while I do them. Of course, right now, during the acclimatizing process, a lot of the work we’ve been doing unpacking is also aerobic.

Kate’s not sewing yet. I’m not writing or doing Latin. Those rhythms will probably be the last to reassert themselves, evidence that settling in has moved beyond unpacking and shuffling stuff around. In their time.