The move is done—at least the part where we’re moving heavy-ass boxes from place to place. We had help…his youngest brother and his brother’s girlfriend, my daughter and son-in-law. Which is the reason I’m not in a hospital now, frankly. I’ve discovered I’m not as sturdy as I once was.
We’re under the new roof, and have spent a night here.
We like it.
But we have not unpacked.
In the first three photos (viewing left to right and top to bottom), you have the calm before the storm: After we repainted and recarpeted, before we moved anything in but new lamps. (Top middle picture is the carpet, which we like because it’s a berber loop,and while we had cats, we could never have that sort of carpet).
The place was serene, and while my brother-in-law (the middle brother) was in surgery, we’d come here after a day at the hospital, and just enjoy the emptiness.
In photo four, you have the first volley fired across the moving bow. Bookcases, and thirty+ tightly-packed boxes of books (they aren’t all in the room pictured. Some are in the office.)
There’s a break in time. Well, there was a break in me. I was too tired to take pictures while we moved, so the picture of the living room is post-move, and the only thing we have done. It’s our tiny oasis of calm in the sea of chaos.
EVERYTHING else is still buried in boxes, and boxes, and bags, and stuff packed inside other stuff.
We’re slo-o-o-o-o-owly getting things unpacked, but we downsized again (this time by about 300 usable square feet, from 1400 to 1200, but with 100 square feet used up by hallway), and had to blend his office and my office into one small bedroom, and, well…
I’m about through the madness, about ready to start posting and updating and writing new TalysMana chapters and doing course stuff and other goodies.
But this one largish obstacle yet remains.
May I publicly state how much I hate moving?