Moving surely is hard. And if you only have to do it once or twice in your life, count your blessings. It’s not just the packing and the loading and highway time and the living out of boxes, but it’s also the changes in surrounding – the new places, people and culture. I suspect that in many ways, a move from Oklahoma to Iowa is probably one of the easier moves to make, though. The Midwest culture is very similar, the population centers are similar. Heck, the biggest noticeable difference is probably that I’m trading wheat fields for corn fields and cattle ranches for hog farms.
But that doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye to the ones you love. The ones you’ve spent so much of your life with. The ones that have grown up with you, spent time in your home.
I’m speaking, of course, of those built-in cabinets. It kills me that I finished them just in time to move away.
You see, when the baby was on his way, the first priority was, of course, to build him a nursery. So I lost my office, which had already been serving double-duty as the guest room. Both I and the guest room had to move into my wife’s craft room. So once the nursery was completed, we needed maximum storage in minimum space.
Hello cabinet project! I sat down to dream and scheme about floor to ceiling cabinets, a built-in desk, bookcases, a murphy bed with side cases, crown molding, and wide baseboards. My wife got to pick the wall colors and the curtains.
I put weeks – months – in the shop, cutting, assembling, prepping, finishing, waiting for things to dry. Of course, the project was delayed by the baby’s arrival, but when it was finally complete it was a masterpiece. A masterpiece I had to put up for sale a few days later.
Of course, no one would appreciate them like I would. The realtor simply wrinkled his nose and wondered whether a bed would still fit with all those cabinets. Maybe we’d have to dismantle them. I assured him that a bed would fit and that he was welcome to leave the premises before it came to blows.
There are few other hobbies that one can take so much satisfaction from. There is contentment in the self-reliance and pride in a job well done. And the person that can look around their house and say, “I made that myself” seems to be an increasing rarity.
To anyone else, it might be another piece of wood. To woodworkers, they are investments, points of pride, symbols of self-reliance, dear friends.
It was hard to say goodbye.