Ah HA, that DID it, it's DEAD...

...at least I think it's dead...
...in a few minutes, it'll be good and dead...
...I think...
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I'm moved.
All my accumulated shyte is now in a closet or drawer or cupboard or box in the apartment.
I have a chest of drawers, and we have a kitchen table with chairs and a boombox, and Dae has a whole room just waiting for pictures on the walls.
(finishing nails, soon. And blank CDs. must remember these...)
There's at least one pair of corbies nested in the tree outside the master bedroom window. They greet dawn, dusk, and almost everyone who opens a door in our little parkinglot area.
Dae calls it home already and is not surprised in the slightest that Mark is there to bring him back to it.
We all manage to fall asleep, nights, with a minimum of shuffling and cursing.

In the morning, there will be Squeakerwrangling ("I'm not a baby!" You're not? Then what are you, a little man? "NO! I'm a DAEMON!" Oh. Well then...) and showers for at least a third of the party (potentially two thirds, if we're making good time getting Mark shuffled off to work), and then I get to finish notifying the world of the address change. And eye the mailbox, because the Alabama Massage Licensure Board met Friday, and (barring the revelation of violent crimes I don't recall having committed) I should have a license in the post soon.

So there's daycare to find and child support to get routed and bills to pay and pins to craft and...

to pound the powder for poison chowder
to make the culture to feed the vulture
that sits on the sorceror's head when he casts a spell...
But most of all, I go to the well.

New.
Lots of new.
Dae's adapting admirably.
I've only freaked out a little.
But then, moving always freaks me out a little.
Still.
This is a good, good thing.
I am a happy crowgirl.