Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Living in Hobart gives you a great ass

We've now been our new house (still sans furniture) for a bit over a week – our furniture is supposed to get here today! The idea that we'll have a fridge and won't be sleeping on the floor? Seems almost too good to be true.

Hobart is a city of hills – sometimes steep ones! – and we currently live within walking distance of everything. And so we walk. And so my, very flat, bottom is getting a very big work out. (If there is one thing you should know about me, it's that I have no junk in the trunk).

To add to that, Inspector Climate (who started his probably short-lived job this week!) and I have decided to try and do all sixty of Tasmania's 60 best short walks. You know I'm serious about it, because I'm adding it to my life list.

We had already done one of the walk when we were here visiting last year. You can read about our adventures to Tasmania's most southern point here.

Over the weekend, we did the Springs to Organ Pipes to the Chalet (not a chalet, a building with three walls and two picnic tables inside) up on Mount Wellington. It was a beautiful day – so far I've been up Mount Wellington twice and both times it has been seriously cold and there has been zero visibility to see the view. But on the weekend, we could see for miles. And it was beautiful.

Although my recommendation is to stop at the Organ Pipes – don't bother continuing to the chalet, it is not exciting. Here are some pics:


There were some people rock climbing on the Organ Pipes (above), very cool.


I spent the entire day singing "I've got my tight pants on" as I wore yoga pants (not only do we not have a fridge or a bed, but I only packed about week's worth of clothes and so my options for outdoor activities were limited). See also Pizza John t-shirt.


Oh, stop it Hobart.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Good bye apartment... we've had... times.

I wrote this the day that our apartment got picked up and packed away (i.e. last Tuesday). As an update. We are in Tassie! Our stuff, however, is not. We're starting week two without a fridge or a bed – the reason it's taken me so long to post it is we've only just gotten internet. Isn't moving fun?

Our apartment is empty. Our only belongings that are left in it are two suitcases, a basket full of odds and ends, and a box of kitchen things to use in the days (7-14!) that our stuff will be in transit.

I have an odd relationship to the stuff – the kitchen stuff, I certainly would be sad if it was broken or lost (the food processor is my pride and joy). But it is the apartment that I feel like it is harder to say goodbye – to be fair, I’ll be reunited with the stuff, I’ll probably never set foot in this apartment again.

It’s not like we’ve had the BEST of times in this apartment either. It started off with an epic sleep walking event by Inspector Climate which turned into us finding a decomposing mouse carcass gently cooking under our hot water heater.

Who can forget us trying to bail out our front load washer with a heart shaped bucket as it flooded our kitchen or after just a few months of marriage the inordinate amount of time I spent in the bathroom for ‘bowel prep’ before surgery. Oh memories.

But, at the same time, this is the first place where we first lived together, got married, it’s where it went from ‘my things’ to ‘our things’.

This shoebox-sized apartment is the longest I’ve ever lived in a place besides the home I grew up in – we moved in together in 2011.

And while I was hoping that saying goodbye to this apartment would mean saying hello to our ‘forever home’ – adventures never go as planned do they?

So goodbye, apartment.

Tuesday, February 09, 2016

Update: And now with a few less tears.

Thank you for your kind comments friends. As far as stress has gone, this is certainly been the worst weekend I've experienced for awhile.

On Monday, I went to work and stifled tears no less than four times (basically, anytime anyone mentioned – You're moving to Hobart this week!). However, we've gotten kind of the best case scenario news.

We're going to move to Hobart as planned (minus the buying of the house aspect for now!), because of course the organisation Inspector Climate works for has actually no plans for how to lay off these people. They won't make any decisions to late March/April at the earliest, but maybe later!

At least we get to try it out – and then there is a big who knows.

I'm hoping that living new experiences and places will inspire me to share more here – that's what Decoybetty has always been: A place to share my feelings.

Thanks again for listening.

Saturday, February 06, 2016

That moment when all your dreams die.

Friday, 12 February 2016. That's the day that our newly purchased car, Inspector Climate, a carful of things we need to survive, and I are supposed to drive on to the Spirit of Tasmania to start our new adventure.

You'll notice a phrase there: supposed to.

Supposed to.

See on Thursday, 4 February 2016 a rather unpleasant announcement was made: a huge majority of the jobs (like let's say 110 out of 130) in Inspector Climate's field (in the organisation that his new job is in) are gone. The government has stopped funding them (who needs to research the impacts of climate change, right? it's only a giant global problem that will impact every single person, place and thing. Sack 'em all! If this logic was applied to other major problems "We know cancer kills millions of people, and that's a problem. So let's stop studying it and carry on shall we?").

The movers come on Tuesday. Our apartment has already been rented to someone else – and the thousands of dollars that we've spent on planning this move? Oh, that's gone too.

There is a slim to none chance that this organisation could say to Inspector Climate "Oh, we'll honour your contract" (honour's an interesting choice of word...isn't it?) – but the more people we talk to, the more and more it seems like this isn't going to happen.

Our dream is crumbling and I'm not handling it well (surprise!). There go the fruit trees and puppies and kittens. There goes the house with the big kitchen and wood floors. There goes purchasing a house – the house that would be the 'only home we ever purchase.'

Gone.

It feels like some one has died – and they have. Future Decoybetty and Future Inspector Climate – as we knew them, as we imagined them, are dead. And I know, trust me I know, how dramatic that sounds. But we've been working towards this new adventure for years. Gone.

I've been walking around in a fog – I smile, I occasionally laugh – and the moment I'm alone again I sob and my heart breaks yet again.

Did you know that in an animal rescue there are 44 kittens that need adopting outside of Hobart? One of them was going to be ours.

While Inspector Climate stoically goes about his day – ticking things off our enormous to do list and trying to talk to me about our future, I am a puddle of emotional exhaustion and can barely think about getting through Monday.