Sale! Everything Must Go!

My dad is probably one of the kindest and pacific persons on the planet. He faces about any situation with calm and coolness. A traffic jam is only lots of cars at the same place, a long line is somewhere you have to wait for a while, and that bear running towards you is simply looking to play, probably. But as any phenomena, there is an exception. 

Flea markets. 

Simply the word will produce an aggressive itch and a nervous tick in his eye. He will start to sweat and look for the nearest exit. The reason is simple; anytime there is a flea market, my mother wants to go there, buy things and my dad has to a) move it, b) fix it up and c) find a place for it in an already overloaded house. This also means that I have inherited my dad's feelings towards flea markets. 

This is why I all of a sudden felt the temperature rise when Sexy Mom calls the other day all excited because she had bumped into a garage sale (the evil cousin of flea markets) and found 'lots of great stuff'. Despite the nausea, dizziness and double sight, I managed to walk down the street and it was worse than I thought; lots of great stuff. 

When everything was bought, loaded, moved and assembled, a weird feeling slowly took over. It was not so much the fact that my wife had been right for once, but the feeling of completion. If you have followed this blog, you have seen a lot of complaining, worrying, panicking and overall communications around the aftermaths of 'moving'. For the last couple of years, we have had a constant feeling of only stopping by, but now all of a sudden, it feels like we are done. Found a home. Ready to settle down. 

Call it what you want, but we feel like we found our place. And it feels great. And weird. Feel free to stop by, we will be around for a while.