January sounds like a good month to move. Well, not really. I mean, the chance of bad weather… who wants to carry boxes, and load a truck in the snow, tracking mud and wet in the houses (old and new), exposing things that aren’t intended for outdoor play to the wet and the rain?
Actually, we moved in February. February 4th. So it wasn’t really January. January that year, that move, was a good month to close out a home of 17 years. Photos, baby clothes, the crib I’d slept in as a baby and that also cradled my daughter. A lifetime collection of vinyl records. Clothes that hadn’t fit in years (body and/or style!). Layers from closet shelves and a full attic. Drawer-fulls of small doodads and pocket lint.
We put a lot of it, bit by bit, out on the curb — no, not the photos, but yes, the record collection! — and watched from the upstairs window as people would drive by, slow down, peer moon-faced at the items on the curb. It was such a thrill to watch their thrill as they poked and prodded and sometimes decided they needed what we had shed.
So that we could move. In almost-January.
And this year at this time, to our surprise, we are moving again. This time into a real house! I know of two other friends who are doing the same. One friend just lost her beloved dog. And one friend is looking to grow her family with foster/adopted children. Our closing/moving dates are all close to each other. It must be a good time to uproot, put roots down, to settle, to nest.
January sounds like a good month.