Still Drunk on Love in the Kitchen

The POD is gone. Many of the boxes are unpacked. The grass is mowed. Clothes now hang in closets. Our new house is beginning to transform into our home. We are still waiting on the bamboo floors install in a few weeks, so we must live in peace with stacks of wood placed in corners. 

Much of this move is still surreal. Yesterday we went to the DMV to get new driver’s licenses, and when the gal behind the counter handed me my temporary card, I took a ragged breath. First, my photo looks like a deranged old lady (which I am NOT, damnit), and second, we are now officially residents of another state. Take another breath.

All of this has been in motion since before Christmas when my husband received the offer from his now employer. We jumped up and down, and then got to work. The list was endless: contacting realtors, scheduling inspections, selling our house, looking at new houses, finding the perfect one, selling stuff, packing stuff, signing pages of legalese on both sides, transporting cats across state lines, unpacking stuff, assembling new stuff. 

Then there’s the navigating of a new town. Where is the nearest grocery store? What about a good Mexican restaurant? How far away is Target? How many times can I go to Bed, Bath & Beyond before being marked as a stalker? How long will it take for me to unclench the steering wheel as I ease onto the nearby freeways? 

On the day we unloaded the POD, I spent a few hours unpacking and organizing my new kitchen. At one point during the activity I almost broke down into massive tears. Even though I got rid of TONS of stuff, where was I going to put everything? My breath began to quicken. Oh my goodness. Our old house had a great pantry and a pull out drawer for spices. There was adequate storage for all my pots and pans. We had plenty of room for our dishes, glasses, and various cooking and baking paraphernalia. What the hell? For a moment I questioned every decision made within the last few months, but then I took another breath. This would work. I sat down on the floor and figured out where everything would go. Some of the bigger items would be stored in the basement, and most of the glasses and wine accoutrements would go in the yet-to-be-assembled hutch. Another trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond scored this handy spice organizer. For every problem, this is a clever solution sold at Bed, Bath & Beyond.

Since that almost breakdown, I have cooked a few meals. We have put on music, cracked open a bottle of wine, and sat down to eat in our cozy kitchen. This new life will require ingenuity, compromise, and flexibility. Our motto is, “We will figure it out,” and we will push on as challenges come flying our way.

My first pie in my new kitchen will be baked this weekend as a kickoff to the summer festivities! I’ll decide what kind after a trip to the local farmer’s market. I’ll roll out the crust, make the filling, and fill our home with the delightful smells of homemade pie. So, follow me in joy as we continue to get Drunk on Love in the Kitchen.

Put candles in a cake, it’s a birthday cake. Put candles in a pie, and somebody’s drunk in the kitchen.

— Jim Gaffigan

A job offer has presented us with a new opportunity for adventure. We have moved our stuff from our hometown to a bigger city filled with rivers, arches, and Cardinals. It is both exciting and terrifying, but we welcome the journey. I hope to chronicle this odyssey as we stumble toward the future. Stay tuned.

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