This weekend we moved from our Lake Oswego apartment into the new house. The event represents reversals in two of the major trends in my life. Briefly:

1. I will no longer change addresses every five months
2. My pile of possessions will grow, not shrink

Constant mobility, occasional poverty, and a tendency toward minimalism drove me, in the last 5 years, to pare my stuff into a tiny pile. Minus the furniture (which I share with Jenny and which was — all of it — Jenny’s coming into the relationship), everything I own would fit into the back of the Subaru. There’s a certain amount of overlap between things that are unequivocally “mine” and those that are “ours,” of course.

Jenny and I fit all our possessions into a 700 sq. ft. apartment, and it wasn’t a tight fit. Now we’ve expanded into three times the floor space. Our shared tendencies to prune and compact led to such comical displays as a neatly organized stack of boxes and storage containers in the far corner of the otherwise empty walk-in closet attached to the largest bedroom in the house — which will itself probably remain empty for several months (if not years).

It’s like when zoo animals are given larger enclosures, but continue to pace around in circles the size of their old cages.

Jenny and I ran new-homeowner errands this afternoon. We discussed what items from this move were to go to Goodwill or Craigslist, coupled with the twin conversation about what new stuff to buy to fill our absurdly empty house. Jenny was keen to replace (upgrade, rather) items already in our possession. I gained a key insight into our different perspectives on the world: Jenny likes to get rid of things, and I prefer not to buy them in the first place.

For what it’s worth, house-buying is (thus far) a scarier and more stressful prospect than parenthood. I wonder how I feel about that in five months.