New Adventure

This is some kind of record; we have unpacking household goods down to a science. All 256 boxes/items were unpacked, organized, hung, and/or placed in the appropriate place within three and a half days. I'm like that blind guy in that movie that I don't remember the title that can take apart and reassemble his rifle in thirty seconds. I'm that good.

I wish I could say the same about the guys who unloaded our goods from the moving van. Evan's bedroom furniture set arrived with only 1.75 bed-side tables, and the under-the-bed drawers to my brand new bed are missing knobs. I plan to file a claim to the missing furniture, the scratched furniture, and the broken glassware, but I wish I could also claim the scratches, OH THE MANY SCRATCHES, to our beautifully painted walls. 

Perhaps the worst part of our experience was the guys' inability to put the boys' beds together properly. I will admit that the Ikea bed has given me fits before, but I never dropped a handful of screws around the house and then pretended the bed was secure by saying, "You are all set up in here!"  This ambiguous statement, we later learned, really meant "Your bed is set to fall apart on you while sleeping tonight." 

I shouldn't complain. The packing, loading, and unloading is all free, and we have never encountered anyone less than accommodating. Today we can leave the house and venture to somewhere in the city other than Lowes and Target. Our new adventure awaits!

Packing...Again

Exactly three years ago today we were leaving Virginia and headed to our new home in Georgia. Today all of our things are again packed in boxes. This time they are headed for Tennessee. It's all a bit worrisome to put all of your life possessions in someone else's hands. Someone once told me that these military moves get easier with time. I firmly believe that someone was a liar. After sixteen years and eight moves, it hasn't gotten any easier for me.

Yesterday I had to deal with the Packing Nazi. He refused to pack light bulbs, batteries, candles, and liquids. The same rules we have always been told would be followed during a pack-out but rarely, if ever, have been actually adhered to. Yesterday's team of three, though, would not budge on this rule. I've entire cabinets of goods that I now must carry with me. However, it was the new rule of refusing to pack wire hangars that took the cake. The team leader told me that there was a risk the hangars might rust. I'm not sure how that can happen when you don't pack liquids. More importantly, how long does the moving company plan to keep my household goods? From my experience rusting is not an overnight experience.

And so now I have 253 wire hangars that I must throw into the back of my car and carry across the United States OR spend up every penny I had planned to spend on food for the next month on plastic hangars. Not to mention I must now carry my sack of decorative candles, a box of batteries, my plastic bottles of vegetable oil and olive oil, and countless other items that the packers refused to pack and I refuse to throw away.

It's official. I am homesteading in Tennessee. Certainly this was never my dream, but if it means one less encounter with the Packing Nazi, then so be it.