The best part about moving has been doing it with my husband.
I know that sounds super cheesy, but we work well as a team. Especially when we’ve got a project we want to finish.
This was our third move together. Our third house. And there’s always a story.
Francis is a talker, a great conversationalist, but sometimes I forget that. You get into the routine of marriage and working and everything feels the same.
But moving shakes things up. Changes the scenery. Makes you see everything in a new way.
A few of Francis’ most memorable sayings from our latest move:
-“It’s been a journey, girl.” At closing.
-Dancing while packing. Always.
-“You think he’s cute?” He says when I notice the carpet guy, all muscles, a blue eyed-MMA fighter. “That guy couldn’t find his way out of a closet.”
-“Colleen, I found something for you.” He pulls a flosser out of a drawer. The previous owners had no teeth, something that bothered me enormously because it speaks to money and class and made me question my house purchase. “Look at the irony, Colleen,” he says.
-On our new bathroom, stripped of wallpaper and pockmarked with mud: “Our bathroom looks like a third-world country.”
-“Go outside and look at this house,” he says, even though I’m tired and sick and we’ve been moving all day. “Do it,” he urges. I trudge downstairs and go outside to stand on the back deck in the dark. The house is behind me, all angles and glass and light. A few steps away, there is water. The sky above, filled with stars. “Isn’t it amazing?” he says.
And it is.