Dig

Downstairs the house is empty. Well, mostly. We left a few things on the existing hardwood floors, chairs and a small table; things for eating.

I've found that the process of moving out of a section of your house is very much like an archeological dig. I'm finding layers, previous versions of my house that I didn't know were there, or things I knew were there but I forgot.

Among my discoveries:

• The original color of the cabinets in our kitchen is a very strange pseudo-wood taupe. I'm kind of relieved they were painted aggressive white, even if it is a pain to clean.

• I haven't splashed as much down the side of the range as I thought.

• When the previous owners re-did the kitchen they didn't replace the wallpaper under the cabinets. OK, I knew this. But until we moved the fridge and the stove I didn't realize how bad it really looks. Each wallpaper seam is separating, like continents that want to get away from each other. I see wallpaper removal in my future.

• The "Warning I'm 2" t-shirt of BigSister's that I lost six months ago was in the rag pile. And it probably should have been, as it had a massive stain that now won't come out.

• That the first mouse we had, the one my husband called "George" and thought was cute, left little piles of mouse poo behind the bar and under BigSister's bed.

• That re-training the cat to a new litter box location is a bigger pain than I remembered.

New floors tomorrow! Sleep at a time yet to be determined....