More through good luck and good friends than good management, most of the Whelan hoard is in the Whelan home. Saturday’s business concluded - my sister dispatched to Seattle with 16 yards of aqua silk dupiouni and copies of Vogue pattern 2429 in every size for her Bevy o’ Bridesmaids - we rented a U-Haul and spent Sunday in the throes of moving. It is really quite remarkable when you think about it that two people so young should have so much STUFF. I suppose I am probably the main offender, but Matthew does have a great deal as well.

At any rate, now I am living in the house, and dealing with the discomfited displacement that entails - how odd not to be able to blame the little pops and sighs and mysterious noises on upstairs neighbors! How different to peer through the blinds at night and see the moonlight glinting off our own yard instead of rows of cars, and stop to look in the mirror only to be caught by a flight of blackbirds off a marsh tree over my shoulder. My only real complaint is that my brain will not be still - it must be sanding the light celadon-chartreuse off the bedroom walls or scrubbing the hardwood floors, and I can only silence it by closing my eyes. I love my house, but I love my projects, too.