Greetings from the other side of the Mason-Dixxon line! Almost one month moved in, we are finally starting to settle into the new digs, and I’m trying desperately to get back to my normal (whatever that is) routine. (Thank you to my MIL whose email yesterday is what
guilted inspired me to drag my butt out of bed this morning and hit the “publish” button on this thing. This post is dedicated to her and my mom, who both worked their fannies off trying to get us packed up in time for moving day; to my FIL, who traded in his robes for his muscle shirt and helped us lift all the things that he probably shouldn’t be lifting; and to our friends back in Johnstown, who are still dealing with the aftermath of our tornado-like move.)
As we approached our big moving day, I summarized my really efficient (or so I thought) plan of attack with five simple “p” words. You can read about it here and here (pretty please, and if you wanted to leave me love on the site, I’d totally let you; being in transit when the articles were published, I didn’t have a chance to publicize them). Looking back, perhaps the planning process can be described with only one letter, but I need a few more to describe the entire experience.
Abrasions (aka I fought the hutch, and the hutch won): Even though Hubby and I have been married for almost five years, we have very few pieces of “real” furniture. My china cabinet is one of those pieces, and one of which I’m extremely proud. When I had to make a split-decision between my wrists and the hutch of my cabinet, the choice was easy. The result was several abrasions to both wrists and a slightly sprained thumb, making the following day of lifting a bit of a challenge (but my hutch is sitting pretty).
Clampetts (See also Strategize): Despite having a seventeen-foot moving trailer, an SUV, and a five-foot trailer hitched to that, I still had to pack my car from floorboard to ceiling (and that’s AFTER a ginormous garage sale). And before you even ask, yes, that’s a boombox. I’m planning to take it on Antiques Roadshow 50 years from now.
Effort: Everyone put in tremendous effort during the move, including Mimi, who was an excellent supervisor, as I’m sure you can tell.
F#*$ (just kidding… kinda) Forgetfulness: The expletive came after the forgetfulness: when I realized that I forgot to pack the corkscrew in one of the bags of Things I Will Need Before the Moving Truck Will Arrive and so I’ll Pack it in My Car (See also Clampetts and Strategize). Fortunately, I found a Swiss Army knife at the bottom of one of said bags (where it came from, I have no idea), and fortunately, the Swiss like to open a bottle of wine in between using their gadget to gut fish and file their nails. Diane, I know what you’re going to say: I could have avoided this whole frustration if I would just switch to boxed wine. I’m taking it under advisement.
(Wishing and) Hoping (and thinking and praying): ‘Twas the night before moving, and all through the town, neighbors heard cursing as we battened the damn truck down. Once the strategizing was over, all we could do was hope and pray that we did a good job and that the majority of our stuff would arrive in one piece (thankfully, with few exceptions, it did).
Limbo (See also Waiting): What do you do when you’re on vacation from work so that you can unpack a truck that has yet to arrive? Why, you go shopping of course! (And see Eclipse for a third time. WHAT?! My mother had yet to see it. I was just being a good daughter.) Being in limbo is unsettling, but it can also be kinda fun.
Strategize (See also Clampetts): After having to pack a seventeen-foot trailer by ourselves, I now understand why movers charge so much. We had to use almost as much brain power as we did muscle to load the truck. Trying to figure out the puzzle of how to fit everything in so that it was secure and didn’t get damaged wasn’t easy. Happily, Hubby and I were much better at this game than we are at Tetris. (*whispering* Actually, we’re pretty good at it, but don’t tell. If anyone asks if they should call us for help, let them know that our stuff came off the truck so damaged, we had to buy all new furniture. Thanks.)
Waiting (See also Limbo): Lucky for Mimi, she didn’t have to wait to get out of her cat carrier for nearly as long as we had to wait for our trailer. Why don’t trucks ever arrive when they say they’re going to? This is why you pack your TV in the car and turn on cable before you even turn on the water. (Are you writing this down? It’s a tip to live by.)
Zen: When all was over, and our bruises were healed and our muscles no longer ached, we forgot about all the hassles of the move and enjoyed the Zen of our new home. HA! Maybe if your name is Mimi. As for me, I learned a very valuable lesson: when moving down the coast, HIRE MOVERS.