The balcony view of the park.
It’s been a crazy busy couple of weeks. On October 3, we got the keys to our new apartment–the first place we have owned in Stockholm. Then on Tuesday, the movers brought in our stuff from the three different storage units that have been housing our worldly goods for the last few months. (Confession: We have actually have had one of the storage units for two years because all of our stuff did not fit into the last place.)
So now we are unpacking boxes, finding things we have not seen in years and figuring out where everything will fit into our new space. We have too much stuff, so we are trying to weed things out as we unpack. That feels good. And it also felt good to see things that I have not seen in a long time: Dessert bowls and napkins from my grandmother Clara, paintings Robert and I created en plein air (on location outside) in California, photos of family and friends, the didgeridoo from outback Australia, quilts made by my Grandma Aleze. When I unfolded one of her quilts and saw the “handmade with love for Sandy and Robert from Grandma” label, I felt like I had really moved in.
After all, it’s these things–the objects, the memories, the history–that are making the new place feel like home, packing boxes and all, even though it’s more than 4,000 miles from my other home. And that feels good too. Plus, the new views aren’t so bad either.Boat traffic: The dining room view.
Fog rolling in.