Finally, we got our futon. Whew. We also picked up a gorgeous bookcase from the early 1900s. The folks that sold us the futon said, “Need anything else?” And we said, “Bookcases?”

Behold, for reasons that are unclear to me, they wanted to get rid of this glassfront bookcase which had belonged to the husband’s grandparents. It’s beautiful! I am baffled but was very, very happy to buy it from them. Naturally, it was not a dimension that we had planned on having in the apartment, but so pretty that we went into make-it-fit mode. Actually, I think this will be better all around. So, what we are doing is using it as a divider in the living room and giving Rob a micro-office there.

Clearly, painting is still happening, but I hated the color I put up on the wall behind the lamp. It’s a purple that does not play well with anything else in the room. It is not at all the color that the photo makes it appear.

I am taking over the entire room that we had set aside as an office. Though my workbench was supposed to be temporary, it’s becoming pretty clear that I will always need something like it. I made this floorplan when we were moving out, to figure out what furniture would fit. It’s been very handy so far. Like when we were trying to decide if we could, in fact, make the bookcase fit. So far, we only have one piece that we don’t have a good home for. It’s a Japanese kimono rack, which is normally a lovely piece, but the right spot hasn’t presented itself yet.

I need to reorganize the office, which we are already starting to call the “workshop” but that will probably wait until Coraline is finished.

Our friend, Fabulous Girl, came up to our neck of the woods so we could go out for brunch. After we finished a tour of the apartment, we decided to stay in. I’m generally happier cooking than going out, so that worked well for me.

I made a beet green and black olive tapénade frittata, topped with a sour cream and gin sauce; sautéed green peppers and potatoes; fruit from -e-’s garden in Portland. I also had a some croissants leftover from work, yesterday.

The closest coffeeshop to the Puppet Kitchen is the The Bagel Zone. The guys there are totally nice. I needed to research some ways to decrease the distance of a cable pull, and they were starting to close down shop. Not only did he let me hang out while he cleaned, he gave me a big bag of pastries to take home.

It was great to have Fabulous Girl here. She is a fine reminder of the many reasons that moving to NYC was a good idea.

Today I took my bike out for the first time in the city. First of all, I have to say, that my timing was amazingly stupid, because today was genuinely hot. A high of 92. For the most part I was in shade by the river, but still. It was hot. Hot. Hot, I tell you.

I was expecting to be frightened and tense while biking–I mean, it’s New York. I’m used to Portland, where the cyclists are plentiful and respected. We all know how crazy traffic in NYC is, right? Yeah. Here’s the interesting thing. Traffic in the city is slow.

I didn’t think about that until I was on the bike. Even obeying all the traffic laws, I was always moving faster than vehicular traffic. Why? Well, first of all, I planned my route so I was on bike lanes almost the whole way. So, when there was an obstruction, I just sailed past it. Second, cabs stop all the time to let people out.

By the end of the ride, I wound up being more aggressive about merging into traffic when someone was stopped in the bike lane. Again, I expected that would be scary, but really, I’m going the same speed as traffic. I’d look. Signal. Change into their lane. Not once–and this is NYC–not once did anyone honk at me. I even had a cabbie, a cabbie mind you, wave me ahead.

I think because I was behaving like a vehicle and they’d seen me stopping at traffic lights (there was a long stretch where I was next to the same three cabs) they were inclined to not hate me for making their lives difficult.

I, on the other hand, began to loathe the other cyclists and pedestrians who just wander out into the street as if no one is going to run them down.

Today I went to pick up a kitchen island we’d found on Craig’s List. The kitchen desperately needed a workstation next to the stove, and this was the perfect size. Since it was on wheels, I figured it’d be easy to get back to our place–even though I was picking it up at 71st and we live at 107th.

Of course, today was rainy. The folks I was getting it from were moving and today was the only day I could pick it up. But hey, I just moved from Oregon; I’ve got a rain coat. How bad can it be?

First, let me introduce you to the discovery of wind and how wind can push rain through a coat that is merely water-resistant instead of water-repellent.

Next, allow me to demonstrate what happens to screws which are vibrated for thirty blocks. They loosen and then, they come out. Taking with them, at 90th street, one of the wheels of the kitchen island. At this point, I suggest calling your husband and asking him to come meet you with the handtruck–yes, I should have taken it in the first place. Leave a message for your husband. After waiting, discover that it is possible to balance the cart on three wheels and still continue on your journey.

Call your husband again at 92nd, 94th and 97th by which point he will have returned from his outing. Wait under the awning of a restaurant until he arrives.

By the time the cart arrives in your home, the draw will have fallen in, the sides will be collapsing and the top will no longer be attached to the frame.

Fortunately, we did pass a hardware store on the way home and I purchased replacement bolts and screws. The cart reassembled very quickly at home and is once more the solid piece of furniture I purchased.

That’s right, we don’t yet have internet at the apartment. We get it next Friday, you know, while I’m away at Readercon. Until then, postings will be somewhat sporadic I’m afraid.

We spent yesterday cleaning and unpacking. The bedroom is assembled and has no boxes. Yay! Rob has disassembled the stove and is deep cleaning it. It’s a nice old Welbilt, which has thirty plus years of grease buildup on it. We shudder.

The living room is starting to emerge from the chaos of boxes, but it will take awhile.

I have to give a huuuuuuge thank you to Emily, Jodi and my brother, Steve, for their help moving us in.

Here are some photos from moving day.

Arrival in NYC

Once on Prarie Home Companion, Garrison Keilor said that Minnesota had two seasons, Winter and Road Construction. We are clearly in the latter. We left on time but are moving over level ground as if the van is struggling up a hill.

While, Rob is filling the truck up with the $100 of diesel that we put in twice a day, I’m checking email and filling you guys in on where we are. Lovely, eh? Oh, and I checked the rating of my blog. You’ll be happy to know that it’s safe for families despite my conversations about beavers and long stiff rods.

We are at a gas station in Peever, S.D getting ready to cross into Minnesota. It is 5:06 pm local time.

I promised to tell you about our misadventures from yesterday, so this is what I wrote up while we were driving.

It was dark when we crossed into South Dakota. One of the interesting things about crossing a state line is that the quality of the road one is traveling on changes dramatically. So, as we crossed into South Dakota all the reflectors disappeared, the white line showing the edge of the road disappeared and the color of the road became almost exactly the same as the shoulder. Without my brights on, it was very hard to see the road. I did not feel comfortable traveling more that forty-five mph.

Everytime another car approached, the road beyond them completely vanished. I learned to watch the angle at which they approached to get a guess about what the road would do when I got to it. Occasionally, there would be reflectors by the road, but not where you would expect them. There might be a curve and then three reflectors on the straightaway.

At one point, as a semi approached and the road vanished again, I saw a quick reflection in his lane. I had time to think, “My god, is there a cyclist on this road?”

And then I hit a deer.

A herd of them was standing on the road. What I had seen was the reflection of one of the other deer’s eyes. The one I hit materialized in my headlights as if it had beamed into place. I can only assume that the semi also hit one.

We stopped, confirmed that there was no serious damage to the truck. There wasn’t–one of the advantages of driving something so large, I guess. After this, I slowed down still more as the road got twistier.

We kept trying to call the campground to cancel the reservation, but could get no cell signal. Though it meant that we didn’t get to the campground until after 11:00, we still went for it knowing that if we got behind, that today would be even longer.

Unfortunately, they stop registration at 11:00. So, though we had reservations, we had no idea where we were supposed to be. I finally found a bag with our name on it that contained a map to our site. It was hard to see the site numbers, so we decided that I would sit in the truck while Rob looked for the campsite.

While I was sitting there, someone came out to complain about the noise of the diesel, so I shut it down. Someone else then came up to demand to know what was going on. Though I was now quiet, he wanted me to move the truck away. I figured the smart thing to do would be to take it back to the main parking area and just pack the tent and cats to the campsite. He assured me that the road went straight through.

He was quite wrong. So, while Rob was looking for the campsite, I got stuck at the end of a deadend road. I tried turning the truck around, and hit a rock–no damage, since I was going extremely slowly, but enough to convince me to stop the truck where I was.

We were next to a cabin which had no cars in front of it. There was a large grassy area. At this point I decided to screw finding “our” site and to just camp in the grassy area. I walked back to get Rob and we set up the tent. Of course, since we were at the end of a dead-end road, it was completely dark. The truck was facing away from the grassy area, so there was no way to use the headlights to set up. We worked with the glow cast by the overhead light in the back of the truck. Our nightlight, once we set up the tent, was supplied by the screen of my laptop. Ah, technology.

We got up at five this morning and hit the road. Mt. Rushmore wasn’t open yet, but is clearly visible from the road. I’ve got to say that it’s more impressive from the side than from the front, but there’s no safe way to pull off and take a photo there.

The road since then has been unbelievably straight.

The new moving truck holds everything we were planning on taking, including bicycles and Rob’s motorcycle. Whew. We backed the new one up to the old one in front of the Chelsea’s house and carried stuff straight across–some things did get offloaded so we could control weight distribution–but it went so much smoother than yesterday. A shady street and a ramp beats sun and stairs any day.

A hearty, hearty thank you to the Chelsea household, Mick Daugherty and Rick Lovett for their help carting everything across. They totally saved our hiney.

The house is totally empty except for the cats and their acoutrements. We pick them up in the morning and hit the road. The plan is to leave at dawn and go straight to Salt Lake City instead of doing an overnight stay in Boise. Whee! At least the solstice will give us lots of daylight driving time.

Rob has a collection of wine. The trouble with driving across the country in the summer is that the wine would bake in the moving truck. So, today we had guests over to help empty the cellar. The highlight of the evening, for me was his Domain Du Mas Blanc from Banyuls from 1977. (Rob points out that this wine celebrates the 30th anniversary of Star Wars.) It was surprisingly vibrant.

What’s also surprising is that we still have wine left over. Fortunately, folks are coming to help us move out of the house on Tuesday.

Thanks to Google Maps new street view feature, you can see the front door of the apartment we are moving to. As a friend of mine said, “It’s like living in the future.”

On the one hand, keen! On the other hand, it’s a little creepy. I mean, is that a neighbor walking past the building? Will I meet that woman while I’m there?

And then I swing back over to the keen! side. Can you imagine how much work this must have been? Holy cow. Rob just showed me his old apartment and his favorite restaurant is still across the street.

Edited to Add: Mr. Radley, in comments, pointed out another very shiny service.

Where google maps is fuzzy, try using http://www.flashearth.com/ (requires Flash) which lets you switch between several different satellite map services, one of which may provide a clearer view.

PuppetVision Blog pointed out this fact that will have an enormous impact on my move to New York City. It is apparently illegal to perform a window puppet show in New York City.

§ 10-114 Street shows. a. It shall be unlawful to give any exhibition of climbing or scaling on the front or exterior of any house or building.
b. It shall likewise be unlawful for any person, from any window or open space of any house, or building, to exhibit to the public upon the street, or the sidewalk thereof, any performance of puppet or other figures, ballet or other dancing, comedy, farce, show with moving figures, play or other entertainment.
c. Violations. Any person who shall violate any provision of this section, upon conviction thereof, shall be punished by a fine of not more than twenty-five dollars, or imprisonment for thirty days, or both.

Now, I don’t normally link to commercials, but I’ve got to admit that this one makes me chuckle.

This fellow came by today to look at removing the linoleum from the rooms on our second floor. It’s one of those things that I’ve been wanting to have done since day one of owning this house. The guy we are doing the house swap with has offered to refinish the floors, so we’re doing the demolition end of it.

Anyway, while the floor fellow was here, I was saying that I didn’t think it was glued down very well, but that I would check and peel some up to see what it was like, since that would affect the price. Um… so I did the whole room. I guess we won’t be hiring him after all, assuming, of course, that the other rooms were as easy to pull up as this one.

The wood underneath is in really good shape, although will definitely need to be refinished to get the glue remnants off. There are still a couple of small places where the linoleum stuck, but even those come up fairly easily. I should finish the last of that room tomorrow.

This Book Of Lights By Takeshi Ishiguro ought to be easy to pack.

Right?

Huh?

It’s a justifiable expense, since we’re moving and all. Right? Right? It’s not like I want it just because it folds or anything.

Rob and I start the cross-country drive to NY on June 20th and plan to arrive on June 30th.