Ninety days ago we decided to change our residence. Our days have been filled with the fun activities of moving, organizing, shifting ideas, planning, lofty thoughts, mixed messages, bumps, bruises, costly trucks and labor, many sleepless nights, lots of driving up and down the highways, jaunting into West Virginia twice (never getting to stop at Charles Town Race Track, to play slots [no matter how much I pleaded] I love them!), and cleaning. I cannot tell you how much I have rubbed and scrubbed! We helped move my sister and her husband after helping her recover from pneumonia. She wasn’t supposed to lift anything or over-tax herself. She is ever so much better now and not sporting the spiffy oxygen tank. Thank goodness! My ego made comments like, “Oh, I can pack up our stuff in two days. And, “We’re going to paint the entire place before we move in”. Ha! I have mud all over my face (not a facial) because it took us the better part of three weeks to get all of our stuff done.
This was my thirty-third move, and Joe’s tenth. I’ve had lots of practice. Back in the day, there were seven members in our family to pack boxes and transition for moving day. Daddy and Mother always had things in-place and the moves went without a hitch. So I give them that. There were only two of us … if you don’t count the two days we had four movers and then three movers for about five hours each time. Our neighbors at the old place kept wondering when we were going to finish. Sometimes, we just couldn’t face taking another trip up four flights of stairs, in the heat. One night the electricity went out for three hours and because we had five skylights, we were able to keep packing and trudging up and down the stairs, out into the stormy rain and filling the rental truck. In all, we rented ten trucks, or so it seems. Sheesh!!
Anyway, we have sorted through each of our transitions, making pathways in and around all of our belongings … many of which we should have purged beforehand, but failed to do. Letting go of some of the silliest items is paramount to a part of our tiny little minds telling us we have to keep this or that. In fact, keeping it all and sort through it later … should be so much easier. Is it? Well, once we put things in their proper place it won’t look like we have as much stuff. My new computer desk is currently sitting propped up against the wall, next to the small round table I will use on the deck. Three weeks later and still no movement on the desk. To give Joe his due, he has been a hero! (always mine) We have both of us worked very diligently and hard, but he has had to drive to-and-fro and work his job, attend rehearsals and gigs.
Plus, we moved my other sister’s stored items from one city to another. Now we are left to sort through the piles of boxes and contractor bags (what a good idea they were), only we don’t know what is inside most of them. We find ourselves feeling the bag to wonder or determine the contents. And I have an ongoing fight with the Health Rider, because it keeps knocking me on my shins! I resemble a kid who has fallen down and scraped her legs a few times. Band-Aids anyone? Don’t even mention the painting of every room, closet, ceiling and door. We only painted the area for the washer and dryer. Plus… we have to buy a longer hose for the new dryer as Joe finally figured out the reason it was so unbearably hot when we were drying our clothing. The hose had come off. You’d have to be a magician to fit behind the stacked machines. We’ll phone the service men to come back out (the fourth time) and hook us up. Sheesh!
Our work is cut-out for us and now that we are all here and getting settled, I can once again pour out my words and tell more tales of my organized thinking and why sometimes, things don’t go precisely as planned. At least we can breathe a sigh of relief and do some sorting everyday. The painting? That will come later. One room at a time.