The sound of settling is the rustling of half empty moving boxes, sweeping of floors and heels dragging on hardwood. Its scribbling to-do lists, and unwrapping bubble wrap, and the tapping of hammers upon nails. It’s the rearranging of furniture, and hanging of curtains, and ringing doorbells. The sound of settling is often silence, asleep on the couch or tucked into bed. It’s soft kisses under a new roof, and feet shuffling underneath bedcovers, and slow dances in the living room. The sound of settling is breathing in and breathing out, and the passing cars. It’s the clanking of pans, and whistles of trains on the weekend, and sighs and yawns, and hats being hung.
Amber and I are pretty much all settled in; all but for finding a place for all the shit that you never need, but for some reason can never get rid of. I admittedly have more “shit” than Amber, so for now it’s all in boxes and tucked in the spare bedroom closet/wine cellar. Organized chaos is no way to settle in, so Amber and I labored every day after work, putting plates in cupboards and hanging jackets in linen closets and art from walls.
We’ve had a trial run at this living together thing. Only it was in Amber’s snug, one-bedroom living quarters. We lived just fine together; the only thing that was missing was me. There was her house, her bedroom, her kitchen, her things, and I was merely there as I was with an overnight bag. Now there is settling. There is us.
It’s time to learn the rhythms of each others days and explore our new town by foot and by bike, and drink wine after long days, and order take out, and watch a movie on Saturday night. It’s time for visitors, and happy hours, and lazy afternoons. It’s time for planting herbs and flowers and cooking dinner together. It’s time for the sound of settling to finally settle; and that silence is starting to sound quite nice upon our ears and our hearts.
Occasionally there are moments in the kitchen when you stumble upon something magical. Most recently, it was the world’s best chicken salad. Of course a good chicken salad has to start with a perfectly roasted chicken. Amber swears that this particular chicken salad benefited from the garlic that was in our rub for the chicken (which also included rosemary, Aleppo pepper, salt and pepper). I don’t recall doing anything different from I normally would do when making chicken salad; I chopped up thigh and breast meat; added mayo and Dijon; chopped celery and apple; added some more Aleppo and some dill and seasoned with salt and pepper. We stuffed pita with the chicken salad and topped it with baby arugula and crumbled blue cheese. And it was kind of awesome. We made another batch the next day.