Despite the fact that I am a mere 4 days from moving, it hasn’t really hit me that I’m going yet. You’d think that a month and a half of climbing over and living around boxes would have clued me in by now. Or all the goodbyes and “last times.” Or having half our stuff disappear on the first of June. Or maybe the actual, physical act of moving all that stuff into the new place might have given it away.

But no. All I can see are boxes, and yet my brain hasn’t quite latched onto the fact that we’re leaving. On Saturday.

This past weekend, I packed the stash closet, and it only half registered. I don’t think it’s denial, really; I think I’ve just been too busy to actually notice what’s going on.

Tonight, though, I think it may be beginning to sink in. You see, tonight I started to pack what’s left of the kitchen.

When we move, the kitchen is always the last thing to be packed, and the first to be unpacked on arrival. Everything else can wait, but the kitchen must be functional as soon as possible. Tonight, I am packing up all but the dishes I need to eat from for the next few days, and my brain is suddenly starting to accept that maybe, just maybe it’s getting to be time to go. An empty cabinet speaks volumes.

Moving is always an interesting experiment to me. It’s amazing how many things you really can just pack away in boxes for a few months and still keep on living just about the same. There really aren’t that many things that I need to feel “at home.” There’s a subtle feeling of disorder and displacement when everything is piled up or stuffed in cardboard, but it’s only a few very basic things that keep me feeling grounded. Sure, take all the furniture. Move all the books. Empty out the closet, and put away the fragile decorations. Just don’t touch the current craft projects or the spice cabinet, and it will all be perfectly fine.

So now I’m curious: what keeps you feeling grounded in your home?