20 June 2014


In about six weeks, we will be moving. There are lot of reasons for the move. Closer to where my husband works (I work at home right now, so I just need an internet connection and my computer for work). The new place is cheaper and has laundry in-suite. And it's time. Counting the years J. and I were university students in this town, we've been here for almost a decade.

We're not moving out-of-province. We're not even moving to a different area of the province. But we are moving across the river, closer to Vancouver, and that's a big leap. The river acts as a barrier--crossing the bridge to go to one side or the other is an effort, especially since the tolls went into effect. A trip to Vancouver is a big, all-day deal right now and will suddenly be less so once we've moved. But a trip to visit J.'s grandmother, on the eastern (well, more southeastern) side of the river, will be more of an effort. We've decided that we can probably do two regular trips across the bridge a week. This will mostly be for church and the gaming group/movie night that we do with friends. I can come to my weekly knitting group once in a while, and my knitters' guild is only once a month, so that's doable. However, spontaneous, last-minute get-togethers with friends on the east side of the river won't be happening like they do now.

The change feels big. We're leaving an apartment that we've been very happy in. The landlord for our new place seems very competent, but we're friends of sorts with the managers of where we live now. They're familiar. Our neighbour down the hall, who has the same name as E., will miss us. We're still going to be close to a library and a grocery store, still close to the downtown core. But it will be a different downtown. Different people, different places.

Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

When we left our last apartment, it wasn't hard to go, even though that was the place we'd spent our first year and a half of marriage. Two freezing winters and one blazing summer there was more than enough. Our current home has been a good fit for a long time, and we are sad to leave,yet ready to go.

I've been examining the new city. We peered into the windows of the library the Sunday we looked at the suite, before we applied. We drove around the neighbourhood. There's a dim sum place, a donair place that J. says is really good, a few sushi places (it's the Lower Mainland, of course there is sushi), and there's a shop that sells Indian sweets (fresh jalebi!). The parks are lovely. The nearest used bookstore that I can find via Google is a drive or bus ride away, rather than a walk, but it's one that I've been wanting to check out. The nearest yarn stores are one that I know is fabulous, and one that I've yet to visit.

We've started packing up non-essentials, since we're moving end of July/beginning of August. I boxed up DVDs and some books today. We have so many books that I can box up quite a few before finding something to read becomes a hassle. E. doesn't really know what to make of the boxes, other than noticing that she has something else she can hold onto while walking. We recently took her on a camping trip that went very well, so I think she'll adjust to our new home fairly well.

And me? I don't love change. Or rather, I dislike the idea of change, but when it happens, I tend to do fine with it. I recently stopped by the linguistics department at my old school, since I was in the area, and said hi. And even though I had been there for a long time as a student, and the place and much of the staff are familiar, it's not the same anymore. I very much had the sense that I no longer belonged there, and that that wasn't a bad thing. That chapter in my life has come to a close. And the one here, in this home, is ending, too. And it's not bad. If nothing ends, then nothing new can start, and that would be a pity, wouldn't it?

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