Today I helped
my parents move to their new home. Well, they still have much moving to
go but the kids helped some today. The new place is 30 minutes SSW of
the old home, in a new community of Elk Grove. Already mom and dad seem
to know the neighbors (from waiting in line when the houses went up on
sale, says mom). It seemed to me that it took years before we knew who
our neighbors were back at the old place.
The new house seems much bigger than the old one. Same number of rooms
but two stories, a 3 car garage (or at least 2-1/2 cars), and three
bathrooms. The carpet sucks though. It's sort of brown, short and
rugged -- not nice to roll around in. The backyard is smaller and it's
all dirt, though the front yard has grass with landscaped flowers. All
in all it looks nice, though once it's filled up with my parents' stuff
it'll probably look... old and crowded I guess.
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A new place is
what my parents want. But I can't help feeling that part of my
childhood is disappearing. Ten years spent in Rosemont, going to school
at Golden Empire, Albert Einstein, and Hiram Johnson, friends (very few
and all moved away by now) and enemies (also very few), and most of all
memories and experiences. I guess the memories don't go away (though
I'll forget more and more), but I'll probably never go back there since
I have no reason to go back there.
I can't go to sleep. Had a nap this afternoon but that's not usually
much of a problem. Maybe it's the new place. It's kind of strange
without drapes covering the windows. Open for all to see, though people
don't. It's like imaginary exhibitionism. Of course it also means that
it'll be bright and shining in the morning. I should sleep.
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