Merry Christmas to Me

I think it's safe to say that we made a backwards step in the world of dog training today. I neglected to keep to the established routine of long morning runs, and instead left after a brief walk to go to a meeting and do a funeral. I returned to find the carpet near the door of my new apartment shredded. I am angry, and studying the fine art of carpet patching.

The Cake Whisperer

Tomorrow we are having the children's program at church, which is themed as a party for Jesus' birthday. Some time ago, I acquired a large stock of cake mixes and frosting, so I volunteered to make the birthday cake. Of course, the cake mixes and frostings are still at the old house, and I am at the new apartment. So, after fighting my way through the rest of the holiday grocery shoppers, I returned home to bake the cake...and discovered that I also left my mixing bowls at the old house. And the mixer. Brilliant. And another thing I forgot: my utter lack of cake decorating skills. If the cake had been made by the children who will process it up the aisle, it would be considered a work of liturgical art. Since it was made instead by their thirty year old pastor, let's just say I'm trying to decide whether I can get away with covering it with 2,000 candles.

In less inept news, today I watched The Dog Whisperer. I have some skepticism toward this guy because it always seems like he takes these absurdly behaviorally challenged dogs, and in thirty seconds of making them walk behind him on a shortened leash, they're acting like obedience champions. However, the show grabbed my attention today because he was dealing with a dog who had recently moved from a large, country house to an urban apartment, and who was exhibiting a variety of anxious behaviors, like yelping uncontrollably whenever her human left the apartment. My similar move has brought out some of the worst of Laila's eccentricities, especially the abandonment yowling, which is really not acceptable when you live in an apartment and have neighbors.

Mr. Whisperer assured me that if I dominate my dog, she will become a "balanced" dog who has no abandonment complex or fear of city noises, and who no longer drags me through the streets. I was unconvinced. However, I have grand visions of being able to take her to the outdoor patio of my favorite bar, or walking through Saratoga this summer, and I really don't care for this whole yowling when I leave thing. So, I tried it. I forced Laila to walk behind me on a very short leash, at a slow pace. She kept charging ahead and then looking at me like, "Hey, who are you, and what did you do with that permissive woman who chases me as I run hither and thither at whatever speed I want?" She continued trying to dash away from trucks and toward other pedestrians and dogs. She nearly pulled out of her collar trying to sniff a fire hydrant. This lasted about ten minutes. Granted, that is a great deal longer than it takes Mr. Whisperer, but after that, a strange thing happened...

Laila became calm. She began to walk with her head beside my knee and follow me as though she's been doing it all her life. She appeared not to notice as large trucks passed us and another dog stopped to greet her from across the street. Her tail came out from between her legs, where it has been implanted since we moved here, and began to wag. She sat on the sidewalk and waited for me when I stopped to put on my gloves - and she NEVER sits down outside. It was weird. I hardly know what to do with this best version of my dog - except keep trying it. Maybe we'll make it to Saratoga yet.

Handyman, anyone?

Did you know that the delivery/set-up people for clothes dryers don't actually set them up if you have a gas dryer? Now I know this, just in time to have a useless dryer sitting in the middle of my kitchen. Granted, it won't be in the middle of my kitchen once yet another delivery/set-up person comes back with the stacking kit I ordered, but it will still not be drying clothes, which is its job.

So, the delivery man asks me, "Don't you know any handymen around here?" as though handymen are people that everyone knows, especially people who have just moved into town. I shake my head and try not to look at him like this question was insane. "You don't have a boyfriend? Husband? Guy friend down the street?" Um, no. If I had a boyfriend or husband, I'd be letting him deal with the delivery of appliances, not because he'd know how to connect a gas line, but because anything like this, when I am involved, is inevitably more complicated than it would ever be for anyone else. And I have some male friends in town, and some female friends too, but I don't get the feeling than any of them are any more capable of connecting a gas line to my dryer than I am. (Hey, you all - if I'm wrong about that, and you are capable of connecting my dryer, feel free to let me know!)

Anyway, all of this left me feeling terribly inept, and I was forced to do something to prove to myself that I'm not a mechanical idiot. So, I decided to install my new light fixtures (the ones that came with the apartment are hideous). Ha! Someone should've warned me that I am not an electrician, any more than I am a certified natural gas installer. But then, as the dryer delivery man so kindly reminded me, there is no one here to do that.

Lessons Learned from Moving

If you see a U-Haul truck on the road, chances are good that the person behind the wheel has absolutely no experience driving a vehicle that big. Give a wide berth, especially if you're seeing this U-Haul truck in a setting of newly-fallen snow and ice.

Professional movers are the second best thing ever. The first best thing is youth from church who come over to help because school was canceled, and other assorted volunteer movers.

Following closely on the list of things that are best:
- living in a place where you can have food delivered.
- the dog deciding that the new apartment is not completely terrifying after all.

Things that are not the best, not even close to being the best, i.e., things that really irritate me:
- having to move my car to the opposite side of the street every morning.
- a dryer sitting in the middle of my kitchen and no idea how I'm going to have it hooked up.

Just thought I'd share, since I haven't blogged in a few days. Now I'm going to go empty more boxes.

Advent Music

Erica has tagged me in a meme about Advent music, and because we're having quite the raging snowstorm, I have some time to procrastinate. So, five songs that make me feel Adventy...Okay, I'm going to try to choose from five different albums, so I may have to note more than five songs. Bear with me.

1. Your King Has Come is my definitive Advent/Christmas CD. Several of the songs are Christmas rather than Advent, but the mellow, acoustic tone of the album feels Adventy to me anyway. I love the version of "Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus" by Derek Webb and Sandra McCracken, which is my favorite Advent hymn.

2. From Happy Christmas Volume 2, "Peace Child/O Come Emmanuel" by the Normals. It's a lovely acoustic song with original verses and an adaptation of the classic carol for the chorus. Honorable mention goes to the coolest version of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" I've ever heard. Not a carol I particularly like most of the time, but when you can pull it off with both jingle bells and a screeching electric guitar, you're going to make me happy.

3. For a prog rock-ish version of "O Come Emmanuel," (and how many of those do you find?) check out Chasing Furies version on Happy Christmas Volume 1.

4. Maybe it's just the pipe organ, but Arcade Fire's "Intervention," from Neon Bible feels very Advent-ish to me. It expresses frustration with the state of things, a sense of waiting for something bigger, and a glimmer of hope.

5. Any version of "Every Valley Shall Be Exalted" or "For Unto Us a Child is Born" from Handel's Messiah instantly launches me into Advent. Predictable, but true.

So Much Stuff

It is truly amazing how much stuff one can accumulate in three years, especially when one lives in a house with many more rooms than one needs. The stuff just...spreads, and it doesn't look like an excessive amount of stuff, until you think about how it is going to fit in a much smaller space. All these chairs! They don't look cluttered here, but there is no way they're all fitting into the new place.

Also, I forgot how many books I own. I keep putting them in boxes, and hauling the boxes away, and yet there are more books. Thus far, I have packed fourteen boxes of books, and there are still many, many more of them. Fortunately, books are the one thing for which I will have plenty of space, since I now have an office well-equipped with shelves as well as a large built-in bookcase in the apartment.

Although I managed to find a place quickly, and they gave me December's rent free so I can move in anytime, I still have almost two months to move. So, my new plan for the condensing of stuff is this: I'm going to move everything I know I need to the new place first. Then I can see how much space I have, and evaluate everything else. What I'm going to do with the things that won't fit, I'm not sure yet. Maybe Goodwill, maybe a non-yard sale (winter being not such a great time to utilize the yard).

Right now, a few boxes sit in the new apartment, and a couple of the shelves are already filled with my books (of course this would be the first step for me in moving in!). The maintenance crew is working on a wall in the guest bedroom. I'm still living here, and most of my things are still here, including all of my furniture. Slowly, my stuff will shift, one carload at a time at first, and eventually with the one big moving van trip. For now, my belongings are divided, and they'll become more so before everything comes together again.

The moving of stuff echoes the transition of my life as a whole. My life and work is still here for now. And yet, I'm already starting to make plans to hit the ground running in February. Slowly, I've been meeting the people with whom I'll soon be ministering. I'm beginning to pass on some of the duties I've done regularly here, so that others can learn to do them before I'm gone. This is not the clean, sudden separation I've had when I've moved in the past. I am divided, in a way that seems not entirely fair to my current congregation. I suspect I'll become more so before I am in one place again. This is not fun; I feel like a cat's cradle - stretched between two points and all twisted up in the middle. But it is what it is, and I can only do what I can do to transition as smoothly as possible.