“You are sitting in an emergency exit,” said the flight attendant as I flew home from Florida last week, “can you help people if there is an emergency?”

I shook my head up and down and down and up. “Absolutely,” I said.  I was a pro at handling sudden changes.  After all, I wanted to tell the flight attendant and those sitting next to me, just a few days prior, I had managed to move out of my old house, settle the closing on my old house, settle the closing on my new townhome, move into my new townhome, and fly to Florida to meet my sister N and find a new home for my mom in an assisted living facility.  Oh, oh, oh, and I also had a root canal in-between it all, in a molar no less.

“Does this sound like someone you can count on during an emergency?” Yes, yes, yes. Luckily, the flight went smoothly and all I had to do was walk off the plane in Philadelphia.  Thank you very much.

Now I am home sweet home and managing through all the changes that a move brings:

– Unpacking the 50+ boxes and deciding where to put everything. (“Where did I pack the portable heater? I know it is in one of these boxes,”  I said to my daughter A.  “If not, we’ll have to buy a new one.”)

– Moving furniture around to determine the best place for each piece. (The movers were nice guys until I told them to move the stationary bicycle in my bedroom a little to the left, then a little to the right, then a little to the left again, then a little further away from the wall. “It’s perfectly placed,” I finally said.)

– Changing my address with the postal service to ensure the timely delivery of my mail and changing my address on ALL my magazine subscriptions to ensure that I don’t miss a single January issue. (It was so easy to do everything online this time around.)

– Setting up my kitchen.  I think half of my boxes are kitchen boxes.  “The kitchen has so many cabinets,” said my daughter A when she arrived home for the holiday week.  “I know,” I replied, “I will fill them all, one by one.”  I treated myself to some new pots and pans for my new pad. I don’t know how to work the microwave convection oven and I can’t figure out the settings on my new refrigerator.  I am not good with appliances. I’m so glad to have my son D home for the next few weeks to help me manage through all this contemporary technology.

It’s difficult to make a move on my own in my 50+ years, but I did it.  I did it. 

I am settling into my new home.  I’m settling into a new routine.  I want to take some time to enjoy the decorating process…to ponder and pick out the right shades of paint for each room, to look through  catalogs and select the furniture for my home office (where one day I will hopefully sit and write my book)  and to find the perfect spot for each picture that will eventually go on the walls in each room.

For now, all I want to do is snuggle up and drink some hot cocoa while the snow falls.  It’s so nice to be in my new townhome.  I did pack my shovel and I know it is in the garage.  But, the best part of my new crib, my new pad, my new townhome is that someone else will be doing the shoveling from now on.

Oh, oh, oh, I did tell my boyfriend L that I would venture out once the snow plow guys leave and build a snowman and snowgirl.  But for now, I think I’ll just sit back and put some mini-marshmallows in my hot cocoa.  I just love mini-marshmallows.