Thud!

Did you hear that? That was the sound of me falling on my ass.

The honeymoon is over.

You know what's stressful? Moving. Across the country. After getting married three months earlier.

Grey had not been to Washington before we moved.  He just said that yes, he would quit his job and support me as I followed a dream.  Nicest guy ever.

And so we packed.  We gave away and sold almost all of our stuff.  We decided to ship books and records.  We had a hitch put on the car and rented a Uhaul trailer for a 4-cylinder Hyundai.  We made it work.  It was a wonderful spirit of cooperation.  Grey did most of the driving and I did the kitty-cat care.

We are settling into life here in Ellensburg, but it's not without challenges.  It's a small town to be sure.  There are not the advantages of a big city, though we have little perks like late pizza delivery, free public science lectures and great local coffee shops. There is a local farmer's market and cheap produce and there are no parking meters- it's all free throughout the city.  Plus there is a free bus that takes people where they need to go.  But no opera or thriving centers with great music or acclaimed art museums.  Not as much...culture..as in a place like Seattle or Portland.  That's kind of a strain.

Grey gets mad at inanimate objects, saying the rudest things to trash cans, cars and occasionally coffee cups and pairs of shoes. I hadn't noticed this before.  When I finally did, I took it personally.  I mean, who in their right mind says such choice profane words to muffins baking in the oven?  I put on my psychology hat.  Surely it must be some sort of anger he harbored towards me that he was just channeling into a safe area.  Yeah, I'm pretty dense sometimes.  And I started taking things personally.


We ordered a kitchen island, pub-style kitchen table and a couch for the house.  The island came in, as did the kitchen table. Grey set to work on the island, with the understanding that I would jump in when he asked.  I sort of drifted off and played around on my phone, while he cussed out the instruction book and the always-falling-apart pieces.  The instruction book, as it turns out, had two parts and one of them had the correct instructions.  Guess which one was on top and got used and guess which one was at the bottom of the box and found the next day?

The Infernal Kitchen Island

To make a long and loud story short, it took over 5 hours to put together the island.  Which he did entirely alone. I was not helpful because I took every crash to mean that he was mad at me.  I retreated to the front porch and listened to music.

You know how people sometimes say that you should never go to bed when you are having a fight?  I'm not sure I believe that.  I tend to be more emotional at night and more rational in the morning.  See, the thing is that I have been afraid that Grey doesn't like the area or the house or me in general and I have been looking for "proof" of that.  Hence, the cussing at inanimate objects and assembling faulty furniture provided as much as I needed.  In the morning I could see that a little more clearer.  Meanwhile, he thought I had lost my damn mind, reacting every time a noise was made in the house.

So we talked and I realized that it was a lot of fear on my part and nothing more.  There were reassurances and we made up.

The Damn Table

We have also visited a Unitarian Church here in the Burg.  They are nice people and we went to a sunrise service this morning to think about the coming of autumn and the equinox.  Grey made cheddar biscuits while I put together the pub table.  With much cussing, ordering him around in a surly fashion and power tools.  Oh, those things are complicated! Also, we can never move since the pub table is so huge it will never make it out the door unless we disassemble it.  And I am not doing it.  In all, it was sort of fun and a lot of work. I'll let you know how the couch assembly goes once it gets here.

Yes, the honeymoon is over.  If my husband ever thought I walked on water, I have disabused him of that notion.

Remember, friends: Keep your crazy to yourself as much as possible and dole it out sparingly.

It was a soft landing and we are still holding hands.