Tag Archives: connections

I am moving

I am moving copyI helped my youngest daughter move this weekend. She has flown the coop. Again. For the last time she tells me.

You are welcome at home anytime, I tell her. I know, she says. But I’m too old to keep coming back.

Saturday, we helped her move. And in the midst of it all, I prepared dinner for 10 and we bought a new sofa because one of the one’s we had was my daughters. We were just storing it for her… 🙂

Mid afternoon, with dinner guests expected for 7pm, C.C. says, after one last trip to Liseanne’s new apartment, “Maybe I should go buy a couch.” I don’t think he was too keen on my idea of using the lawn chairs in the living room.

I’d set the table in the morning (after I’d packed up all my daughter’s dishes which were waiting for her to come do it!) The lamb was marinating, the gazpacho chilling, dessert was taken care of and the potatoes were set to go in the oven. All that was left to do was the Rissotto, veggies, salad and appetizer. I was set.

“I’ll come with you!” I said.

The day before I’d seen a sofa I’d liked when I’d stopped at my favourite shop (Chintz) to pick up some small items for my daughter’s new home. I mentioned it to C.C. so off we went to check out my find.

Good thing  I know my man’s taste. He loved it. We bought it.

The challenge — could we get it home for the evening’s dinner party. They were willing to sell us the floor model — It hadn’t been on display for long — but they couldn’t deliver at such short notice.

We called my daughter.  Would her friend come back with his pickup truck and pick up the new sofa?  I love my daughter’s friends. They’re always willing to help. (I did express my gratitude with a take-home container of Gazpacho and a dish of Wild Mushroom Risotto).

By 6pm, we were home and after some finagling (like removing the front door) the sofa was in place and I was back in the kitchen cooking. C.C. got the appetizer tray ready while I prepared the rissotto and veggies. By the time our first guests arrived shortly after 7, everything was set.

Yesterday, my daughter and I went shopping for her new home. We started back at Chintz — I’d spied two matching lamps the day before that I thought were divine and I knew would be perfect for her bedroom. She agreed. Then off to the staples of modern living — HomeSense, Home Evolution, Home Depot with a side trip to Walmart and Costco.

The 6 hours of shopping was easy though compared to the unloading at her new place. Parking in the basement we had to go through two heavy (and I mean heavy) fire doors to get to the elevator. We had quite a stash (good thing I have a hatchback). It took a lot of juggling to get it all loaded into the elevator in one go, but we did it, including the glass desk she’d bought (did I mention it was heavy?).

the new sofa
the new sofa
All of this is to say — I’m tired today! But it doesn’t matter. Because in the midst of all the moving and shopping and carting and lifting, I got to spend yesterday with my youngest daughter. We shopped and chatted and compared notes on ‘Oh, I like that’ versus ‘seriously what were the designers thinking’. At one point, we took a quick sidetrip to browse the showroom of a furniture store I’d never heard of and whose name I can’t remember. We walked through the aisles and both of us commented on how fast we were moving through the displays. Beautiful furniture but the music was a fast-tempo Latino derived electronica mixture that was not conducive to spending time in the store. “Maybe it was just us,” I said as we both made a beeline for the exit. Everyone else seemed to be content to sit on the sofas and test out the easy chairs. We both laughed and once we were breathing freely again out in the beautiful May sunshine, we agreed. We’re both weird.

It was a busy weekend but the busy-ness didn’t matter. I got to spend it with people I love, sharing stories and laughter, delving into what makes life so rich — our connections. Though as I later told my eldest daughter, Alexis, as we chatted on the phone, the one thing that would have made it perfect was if it had been the three of us shopping together. But then, we’d never have been able to fit in as much as we did into my car.