Moved In and Almost Sane Again

I’ve been missing in action for the past month, trying to get everything situated in our new house. Alas, the task was daunting.

I breathed a sigh of relief after the “late” trash truck came yesterday and removed three large boxes full of flattened cardboard. The regular recyclables truck passed them by and I was afraid I’d be hauling them back into the garage. In Henderson, Nevada, there’s no “take it to the dump” option. If it doesn’t fit in a can, your discards are picked up by the “late” truck and hauled away.

Sometimes the trash guys don’t like what’s sticking out of the can. In my case it was bags of rosemary clippings. The haulers removed them and placed next to my boxes for the “late” truck. Unfortunately, it was windy and they got loose. I found myself chasing the bags down the street before they were deposited in my daughter’s trunk to be taken to the dumpster at her apartment.

The perils of moving.

Have you moved? How many times? Does it seem like endless unpacking when you finally arrive at your destination? A month in our new home and we still have boxes in the garage. Pictures to hang. Three boxes of my daughter’s stuff. Boxes of tools my husband hasn’t found a place for. Christmas decorations. And plaques.

In my former profession, whenever I changed jobs there were always plaques…small polished pieces of wood with kind words engraved on metal, firmly affixed. Because I loved to volunteer, there were also plaques thanking me for my service. All of these recognition plaques now live in boxes in the garage because I’ve never had a dedicated home office and I don’t have the heart to throw them away.

Our initial moving day from an apartment in the southern part of Las Vegas to Henderson, just a few miles away, was historic. It was the wettest day in Las Vegas history. Fortunately, we hired professional movers and they shrink-wrapped everything. The rest of our belongings came three weeks later from our storage unit in Northern California on a bright sunny day. That’s when our garage became home to a gazillion boxes…mostly books.

Capt. Mark and I both read a lot. I give books away when I’m through with them. My spouse is a book hoarder. He likes to read them two or three times, claiming he always finds something he overlooked. So we have two tall bookcases in our living room one tall bookcase in the bedroom, and a short one in the kitchen. Thankfully, all the books are now unpacked and put away.

We’ve decided this is our last move. No more moving books. They’re heavy.

Famous last words.