Full mit chokolaten

We are so moved in. Hell of moved in. Well, actually, the pictures are still not hung, but apart from that, the boxes have been opened, the shelves have been filled, the toys have been strewn about...it's home now.

Bonuses: we live across the street from a massive Italian grocery store that has every specialty item in the universe. Amazing sandwiches with sun dried tomatoes and artichoke and asiago pate and roasted red peppers...fresh baked stuff, fresh fish, ten trillion kinds of chocolate and cookies, a bakery, gelato...it's endless.

Drawbacks: We live across the street from a massive Italian grocery store that will make me fat and poor!

What a different life we live now. We see people. Almost everyday we talk to people.



We see shops and long tree-lined streets with sidewalks and everything.



Back where we were, sidewalks were often a privilege not a right, as in, maybe there would be one on one side of the street, maybe not.

We have a bathtub instead of just a shower so we can give L his baths which he loves.



We have cement floors that don't creak every time you blink and wake up the baby that you just spent one hour trying to get to sleep. We have a big sunny kitchen that is a pleasure to sit in and have a morning tea and bowl of cereal or a lunchtime sandwich or an evening bowl of rice and vegetables.

There are big trees outside of all of our windows and even the sound of traffic isn't that different from the sound of waves after a while.

L is growing up. He's trying to talk and sit up on his own and has succeeded in getting his foot in his mouth after a month of trying everyday! His dad makes him laugh, sometimes just at the mere sight of him, but often, because of his ability to dance and smile and talk like a crazy man. L likes the crazy a lot.

He is a mellow, happy dude who enjoys a good walk, a good nap, and a good foot in the mouth.



Everyone has been helpful like crazy already and we are glad we picked up stakes and braved the 7 levels of hell that is moving house. Now then, next time I move, I swear to jeebus that I will torch everything I own and start all over. But the next time I move better not be for quite a while...like, when I'm 60 maybe?

If you'd asked me 10 years ago, would I be moving back to my hometown ever, I'd have emphatically replied that such an occurrence would only be post-head injury or in the midst of feverish insanity. Well 10 years ago I was 26 and 26 years olds are stoopid. So whatever. Life right? It's a kooky kooky ride mama.

Who knows where we will end up and when, but right now, we are here and so it is.