Movin' Day
There’s something about moving that really makes you appreciate what you have. Specifically, you appreciate how much what you have weighs, and question what the hell you were thinking buying so much heavy, stupid junk in the first place.
I’ve lived a nomad’s life for the past five years, and have moved roughly once a year. Despite this, I’ve managed to accumulate an ungainly amount of crap. This year, at least, is slightly better than most. I think I only hucked about two garbage bags worth of junk, and donated only one garbage bag of clothing to charity. So progress is being made.
What never ceases to amaze me is how a seemingly tiny room (my place in town was roughly the size of a residence room) can cough up a massive amount of bags and boxes (roughly three truckloads), and then another relatively small locale (the cottage) can swallow said belongings just as quickly.
There is a bit of a sense of clutter to the cottage, though. I knew that this day was going to come, sooner or later. The cottage has been where old knickknacks, books, and magazines come to die for close to thirty years, and it was inevitable that it would eventually start to bulge at the seams.
When the cottage is eventually restored to my mother’s control, I’m going to assist her with some ruthless housekeeping. I wouldn’t be surprised if we could clear three or four truckloads of miscellany from here without anyone noticing. But however will we decide what should go? Can we really say goodbye to the 27-year-old Archie comics? Or the joke book from the early 1980s? Tough decisions lie ahead.
I ate outside today, just because I could. There’s still ice on the lake, but the air was warm enough that I could go outside with just a t-shirt and not instantly freeze. Combine that with a cold beer and some thick burgers, and you’ve got the makings of a good evening.
Tomorrow, I intend to do nothing. Nothing at all. I may, if I’m feeling particularly ambitious, surf the Internet. But if this weather holds, you’ll find me on the porch, sipping a cold beer, and puffing away on a cigar.
posted by Ryan @ 7:29 p.m.
5 comments
5 Comments:
Having just moved myself, I can appreciate all your efforts in moving such a load. In six months, I can hardly believe what I had to bring home myself. I'll have to dejunk my place just to make room for all the new stuff.
The cottage sounds lovely. Enjoy!
Wandering Coyote: It's a really good feeling when it's all done, but the process itself isn't a lot of fun. Good luck with the dejunking process. At least you picked a good time to come back - the weather's finally starting to break here.
Moving from my spacious TO apartment to my tiny K-town one, I had to do a lot of possession-pruning. (Luckily my parents' basement is mostly empty, which is great for storing that extra loveseat for which I don't have room here.) At the same time, though, I found it comforting to know that my life could carry on pretty comfortably if I didn't have my 4th-year electricity & magnetism text on hand.
It's like packing for a vacation. As long as you have enough clean underwear and your toothbrush, that's really all that matters. Leave the seven different neckties at home.
(Then again... I did make it a point to bring all three of my baseball gloves here to Kingston. Some things just aren't negotiable, y'know.)
As much as the physical lifting part is a bit of a pain, I quite enjoy the process of going through my stuff and asking the question, "Am I still using this? Will I use this?" I always feel much more organized after a move.
The biggest thing I had to move this time around as a 27" TV, made the old-school way. Probably weighed close to 100 lbs. Just light enough that I could move it by myself. I don't know what I'd do if I had a piano or a king-sized bed to move.
Plus, for the next two - three weeks after, I have very little desire to purchase anything.
Riz: Never. There's no way I'd get rid of a joke book so mind-blowingly offensive as to group it's jokes by ethnicity, among other things.
The funniest part is that the joke book isn't actively trying to be offensive... it's called "1000 great jokes", not "1000 jokes that will make your ears bleed". Good times.
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