Our plan for the homestretch of construction was to be local in Ojai for the last few weeks, while the punch list (the list of final fixes that’s made based on a walkthrough) was being completed. In September, Evan, our contractor, indicated that the house would be ready to move into by early October, so we should aim to be there then. By mid-September, he had changed this forecast to mid-October, but insisted that he was confident in this new date, so we shifted our schedule to leave Brooklyn a week later.

For anyone new to Homeward, we bought this house as a place to spend the winter months to avoid New York City’s chill—not as a year-round home. At least, not yet.

Packing for this kind of move is a little weird. You find yourself wondering, “Where do I want my favorite bread knife to live?” And “Will I want Mastering the Art of French Cooking in Brooklyn or Ojai?” And “Do I buy socks for each place or transport them back and forth?” (Current answers: Ojai; Brooklyn; stocking socks in both homes.)

A few months before leaving, we were still unsure what to do about a car in Ojai. We’d need one, but we also kinda need one in Brooklyn. Tad and I both have a fondness for 1970-1972 Mercedes 280SEs, and for months I’d been closely watching auctions on Bring a Trailer. (If you’re into vintage cars, BaT has a great, well-informed community that weighs in on cars with the same zest as homecooks do on NYT Cooking recipes.)

Then our Brooklyn garage sent us a text saying they’d be closing forever in three weeks. That kind of announcement in Brooklyn is like the music going off in a game of musical chairs—only there are two chairs for 47 people and the game is being played by a bunch of aggressive New York car owners. The chances of us getting another spot that was nearby and affordable were…none. The decision was made for us: we’d be driving our car to Ojai. Whatever didn’t fit in the car would get shipped.