June 13, 2011

My parents recently bought a new-to-them house closer to me and my sister. The new-to-them house is bright, airy and happens to be on a lake. In fact, it was the first house they looked at and my dad made an offer right after he caught a 3-pound bass off the back deck (meanwhile, my mom was checking out the bathrooms and closet space). We’re all so excited about the move that there isn’t much nostalgia when it comes to packing up the old house – which also happens to be the house I grew up in. We’ve spent the past few weekends tossing, sorting, cleaning and packing. And when I say “we’ve” I really mean my mom and Jeremy. My sister sort of creative directs the whole thing and my job is to inspire and cheerlead by dressing up like Lady Gaga and dry humping door frames while singing “Born This Way”.

Left: A moving box labeled “Baby Photos (Tara & Donny). Mostly Tara.” No Kathleen. See, I’m the baby. My parents were too tired to take pictures of me. Right: The taxidermied boars head. My dad sent this home with me to babysit until they get into the new place.

Left: We’re using Donny’s Gazette papers to wrap fragile valuables. Right: The stuff my family packs (or at least decides to throw in a box together) is just weird. Ceramics and Tambourines!? Let’s just say – I had a colorful and eclectic childhood.

Left: I was born this way, baby. (That’s a table runner wrapped around my head). Right: I have the patience of a seven year old. So instead of sticking around for organizing & packing I decided to get lost with my very own seven year old nephew for a little while. I let him stick his feet out the window.

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