After 50 years at the Rice Paddy, we are moving. If that isn’t scary enough, we are going from a four-bedroom house to a two-bedroom condo. We might as well be going to Mars!
We settle on the new place of the 22 of October – always subject to change without notice, of course. Oddly enough, this is the same date we settled on this house.
We had originally planned to hire a U-Haul and gather our friends, but when we consider the amount of gear we have to move and the average age of our friends, we decided the better part of wisdom would be to hire a professional to move the big stuff and we’ll tote the smaller items along as we figure out where – and if! – they will fit. Speaking of wisdom, we have decided to board Boris with the vet for the day. He zings around here like a low-flying rocket, and he’ll either be underfoot or manage to get out, neither of which are good.
We’ve been playing Let’s Pretend We’re Moving for several years, but the real thing is a lot more complicated. I’ve been tossing scraps of fabric left and right, and The Squire has been sorting through papers, disposing of manuals to equipment we no longer have, and putting other manuals with the pump and the weed eater, neither of which we will need.
When my mother moved out of the last house where she and my dad lived, my sister and had to be very careful how we handled things. The dear old lady placed several cut-chrysal pieces in a large box and then surrounded them with scraps of fabric the size of postage stamps and post cards. More than one family heirloom nearly went out with the trash. And nobody has ever come up with a good reason for her to have a garden hose under her bed in the retirement community, or a 1950s crinoline in the closet. I’m trying my best not to follow in her footsteps!
We owe this move to the unbelievable generosity of our eldest daughter and her husband, and we can never, ever thank them enough.
Not again?!? South Carolina???