I have just re-discovered that I hate packing up a house to move. The first eight years of our marriage we moved 5 times. Every time we moved cities we had to move into a rental until we closed on our house. During those years I knew I hated packing so I got where I could pack up the whole house and move in a weekend. I kept things to a minimum, threw away or gave away then moved on. We have now lived in the same city (third house) for 24 years. 14 years in The City House and I forgot that I hated packing. I have settled in to The City House. We have bought things. Big things. I have kept things. Too many things. My kids moved off to start their lives and left things. I am discovering closets I forgot we had. Apparently there is attic space we have not seen in years. Moving this time is becoming much more like an archaeological dig than the past moves. Since moving to The City House I have lost my grandmother and my husband has lost both parents. We have some treasures from them to move with us.
Here is what The City House looks like today:
Now, back to packing.
It is driving me crazy(er).
We are scheduling one of those PODS tonight to come in two short weeks. I think that with our storage unit, our son, our friend’s trailer, the Garagemahal and the PODS we should be able to get it done.
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