Four years was our personal record of how long we've lived in one house.
Twenty-three years of marriage and we've had twelve addresses, some for only a few months but still, they count.
This house we're in now though, it's been four years and three months. Four years and three months of improvements and while I'm quite happy with my address, the house is another story. If I could tear it down and rebuild right on the same property I would be thrilled to do so.
Since by now we've already moved, I am feeling the need to purge and clean. Moving often has allowed me to not become a hoarder. I've been able to get rid of things on a regular basis and the not holding onto stuff is liberating. I will not be the old woman whose closets haven't been cleaned in years and whose pantry holds vintage soup cans still full of noodles and broth.
Still. I need to purge. I've been considering climbing up into the attic just to see what I can get rid of.
And clean. I want to clean my kitchen cupboards. As in, scrub them clean. Perhaps I will get to that project later in the week. I doubt the feeling to clean and purge will pass without some action on my part.
This is when you should perch at the end of my driveway to see what I lug out of the house and drag down there.