Moving Day
By Belinda
Their home had a stork on the lawn, announcing the birth of their first daughter, when they moved in, 14 years ago. Two brothers and a sister came along since then, to fill the little house with love, laughter and memories.
In those14 years the house has been spruced up, painted many times, re-roofed, had energy efficiency upgraded and a deck built, but without expanding the walls, it was just too small, and yesterday, the time came to move.
Paul and I were part of the moving crew, and of course, my camera came along for the ride.
Pete closed the door on 9 Purdue Court for the last time. Both he and Sue had walked the empty rooms one last time and said their goodbyes.
The house had been scrubbed clean, and now all we had to wait for was a call from the lawyer, to say that the key to the new house could be picked up, but it was 33 degrees and we had all worked up a sweat. The only place to wait was the deliciously cool Dairy Queen!
We didn't have long to wait. The last vestiges of my Peanut Buster Parfait were just gone, when Sue's cell phone rang with the news we were waiting for and with cooler bodies and restored energy, we all piled back into our baking hot vehicles, and left Tottenham for Alliston, in a convoy.
My back seat passengers were William, our 8 year old grandson and the young son of one of the friends helping Pete and Sue move. They had the back windows open and their hands out, to feel the air rushing by, but I could hear that they were talking about house leavings.
"Are you going to miss your old house?" asked the friend.
"Yes," came the definite reply.
"I was so sad to leave my old house, I felt like hugging the bricks," said the friend, "And I loved the pear tree that was at our old house."
I thought to myself that he had the sensitive soul of a poet, which was confirmed when we pulled up to the new house, 20 minutes later.
There is a ravine at the side of the house, with little shaded paths leading into the trees in several places, and down a steep slope to a small creek. A breeze sighed through the trees and the leaves shimmered in the bright afternoon sunlight and wind.
"The trees are waving hello to you," said William's friend.
I smiled at my kindred spirit in the back seat.
Later, while the adults unloaded boxes and cleaned and organized cupboards, the children, ignoring entreaties to stay out of the ravine, could not resist, and first the three boys, and then five year old Clare, emerged with prickly burrs in their hair and covering their socks and tee shirts, which had to come off and the burrs be picked off on the deck.
The people who had moved out earlier that day, left a note of welcome with the keys.
The home has obviously been lovingly cared for and happily lived in.
After hours of work, the first gathering of friends and family around the table.
And at the end of the day, as the sun went down, the children still had not run out of energy. From a front porch filled with emptied and folded cardboard boxes, the sound of hockey stick on pavement could be heard, as the boys did what Canadian boys do; put up a net and had a game of street hockey.
In those14 years the house has been spruced up, painted many times, re-roofed, had energy efficiency upgraded and a deck built, but without expanding the walls, it was just too small, and yesterday, the time came to move.
Paul and I were part of the moving crew, and of course, my camera came along for the ride.
Pete closed the door on 9 Purdue Court for the last time. Both he and Sue had walked the empty rooms one last time and said their goodbyes.
We didn't have long to wait. The last vestiges of my Peanut Buster Parfait were just gone, when Sue's cell phone rang with the news we were waiting for and with cooler bodies and restored energy, we all piled back into our baking hot vehicles, and left Tottenham for Alliston, in a convoy.My back seat passengers were William, our 8 year old grandson and the young son of one of the friends helping Pete and Sue move. They had the back windows open and their hands out, to feel the air rushing by, but I could hear that they were talking about house leavings.
"Are you going to miss your old house?" asked the friend.
"Yes," came the definite reply.
"I was so sad to leave my old house, I felt like hugging the bricks," said the friend, "And I loved the pear tree that was at our old house."
I thought to myself that he had the sensitive soul of a poet, which was confirmed when we pulled up to the new house, 20 minutes later. There is a ravine at the side of the house, with little shaded paths leading into the trees in several places, and down a steep slope to a small creek. A breeze sighed through the trees and the leaves shimmered in the bright afternoon sunlight and wind.
"The trees are waving hello to you," said William's friend.
I smiled at my kindred spirit in the back seat.
Later, while the adults unloaded boxes and cleaned and organized cupboards, the children, ignoring entreaties to stay out of the ravine, could not resist, and first the three boys, and then five year old Clare, emerged with prickly burrs in their hair and covering their socks and tee shirts, which had to come off and the burrs be picked off on the deck.
The home has obviously been lovingly cared for and happily lived in.
And at the end of the day, as the sun went down, the children still had not run out of energy. From a front porch filled with emptied and folded cardboard boxes, the sound of hockey stick on pavement could be heard, as the boys did what Canadian boys do; put up a net and had a game of street hockey.Psalm 121:7-8
New International Version (NIV)
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Marilyn