Slipping away from the unpacking chaos for just a few moments this morning. We’ve moved, well, mostly. The Patrick may have to make another trip or two to collect the remaining man-debris from the garage and the shed.
Here’s the view to the east from about halfway between the house and the mailbox.
This week has been an exercise in trying not to judge others:
“Who the heck packed this box?”
“MOM, random stuff is NOT an adequate box label.”
“Oh, you weren’t supposed to bring that. I set it out for trash.”
“Whose stuff IS this? Is this ours?”
“Your pillow? It must still be at the old house if you didn’t load it.”
And an exercise in patience:
“What’s that smell?”
“Um, something is bubbling out of that hole in the basement floor.” (Ew.)
“Is water supposed to be dribbling down the sides of the water heater?”
“The dogs got out of the fence again!”
“Just because your room is unpacked does not mean you get to stop helping.”
And an exercise in physical, mental, and emotional fatigue:
Physical: Trips up and down stairs to basement and/or attic = 100+
Mental: Trying to unpack my bedroom and office in a studio-type space with no walls or closets.
Emotional: Every time someone asks “have you seen the ___” or “where did you put the ____”
In other words, moving is EXERCISE!
That said, I figure by the end of the week, we should be pretty well situated. Which is good, because June 1st I intend to begin my human renewal upgrade procedure:
Forget the new leaf, it’s time for a whole new vine!