The only reason I know it’s December is because I’ve opened nineteen doors on my advent calendar and no one has told me to stop.
The sun is shining, the temperatures are still in double digits above zero, despite a couple of snow showers in November the fields are still green, and we haven’t decorated for Christmas. I’ve only gone to one Christmas market this month when I’d probably had about thirty Glühweins by this time last year. However, while I’ll let science explain the first three factors, our lack of Christmas decorations is due to being a little preoccupied moving into my mom’s new house. FINALLY.
It hasn’t been easy schlepping box after box from the neighbour’s top floor (aka our storage unit), building furniture without any instructions, and overcoming the nightmare labelling job the movers did with some of our stuff. When you’re given a wad of paper filled with (hopefully) every screw and knob that holds together every table and bookshelf you own, with no indication of which unit they belong to, even just sorting it is taxing. Suffice it to say that non-stop moving for the past two weeks has put a hold on the Christmas celebrations for now (though it doesn’t stop me from having hot chocolate or cookies while watching House of Cards every night – c’mon, I’ve earned a little relaxation from all that work!).
Since Saturday night we’ve been sleeping in the new house. I say sleeping, not living, because our lack of a bathroom light and TV/phone/Internet hookup has forced us to shower and chill out back in my grandma’s house. The fridge is also empty except for a bottle of champagne. While I’ve been complaining about living here for over a year and pining for my familiar things, I felt like a foreigner lying in my bed in an almost empty room with boxes of things I deemed important enough to bring with me. A part of me even missed the snuggly den I’d created for myself in the front room of my grandma’s house. I woke up sweating and saw my thermometer showing a room temperature of 19°C instead of 12°C like it has been the past few weeks.
I suppose these are all natural feelings when moving to a new place. I thought the proximity of the new house and the familiarity of my things would ease the transition, but there was still that feeling of sleeping in a room that didn’t feel like it was mine yet, and it was unsettling.
Slowly but surely things have started to look more homey. Each night’s sleep has gradually gotten easier as we built my closet and I brought over all my clothes; tonight I’ll be spending the night in a room with a few more framed pictures than yesterday. Even the cat has decided my bed is a nice place to settle on instead of puttering about all night.
As the unopened doors on my advent calendar become fewer I do hope I’ll get into the Christmas spirit in time. Of course, it’s hard to focus since once the holidays are over I finally get to look forward to my next adventure: Copenhagen!