So, we moved.
We sold our old house on the east side of Georgetown, KY and moved to a house on the west side. I’m currently so tired and overwrought I can’t even remember if one capitalizes ’east’ in a sentence. I think you do, but capital letters just hurt my eyes right now.
We couldn’t have done it without lots of help from folks at church, especially folks from our small group. We got T’s Chevy Colorado truck (2.8L 4-cylinder, AT for those scoring at home) for almost a week, and schlepped stuff to T’s garage, B&D’s basement, our storage building, my office at work, and a Mobile Attic. Most of the stuff (at least the things not in the mobile attic, actually got moved *twice*.
The week before closing sale on Sardula was crazy. Sunday, I chose to have another group member lead my small group at church as Whitney and I packed things into boxes. I liked smaller boxes; she like the efficiency of larger boxes. Monday I was at work, dealing with a special project that was supposed to be delivered that week that I was supposed to be at work.
Aside: So, our closing got moved up from Monday, 30 April to Friday, 27 April. This meant instead of taking off the entire week of the 30th, I scraped together the Wednesday through Friday the week of the 23rd, then monday the 30th. Compressed timelines, yeah.
Anyway, so I basically had a sit-down with my special project team at work and laid out what was remaining for the demo coming up the next week, then Tuesday I worked a half-day and drove Grace to the Gastrointerologist in Cincinnati to see if he thought her not eating was anything medical. They basically took a detailled history and scheduled a follow-up appointment for June. Understand, I’m glad they didn’t ‘scope my daughter’s esophagus, but at the same time, it was incredibly frustrating to get the medical profession’s version of a condescending pat on the head. Fact: My daughter lost 3 lbs from her 12 month to 15 month appointment, and has plateaued since. That I kept repeating, repeating, and reiterating that to the nurse, intern, doctor, and dietician never seemed to register.
So that…was Tuesday. Then we packed some more.
Honestly, Wednesday I don’t remember at all, aside from schlepping kids and stuff and continuing to sleep on the floor in sleeping bags because we packed our beds the weekend prior.
Thursday was D-Day. We had a walk-through on the house at 10am Friday morning, with sale to close in Lexington (yay, 1 hour roundtrip!) at noon. By Thursday, I’d come to several conclusions: First, my back was with me through the move. I don’t know if it was necessity or providence, but my arthritic lower back didn’t go out during the process, even when moving the TempurPedic King mattress. Second, I realized we didn’t have enough space to fit all our crap.
Our goal was to have a yard sale during April to shed some crap before we moved. That did not occur, so the detritus of 5 people had to go along with everything else. Eventually, we resorted to stuffing the Mobile Attic to the gills (we tried to open it upon delivery and the crap was stacked so high close to the back that the mechanism jammed), packing both cars, ripping the back seat out of my Camry of Doom, and throwing the remainder in T&K’s garage.
Thursday, for me, lasted from 5am to 3am the next morning. We secured a hotel room for the night and a babysitter, so Whitney, C, and myself could clean, patch holes, paint, and move things. By 11 Whitney and C had to leave (school night), and there I was painting, cleaning, and moving. I got a second wind–thanks, podcasts–and pushed through it as best I could. Then I got 3 hours’ sleep at the hotel before we woke-up and I took Joey and Maria to school, then dashed back to Sardula to finish up.
Turns-out, I’d done a crappy job on the finishing touches. Fair enough; I’d cut enough corners to make a circle. I oversaw the Mobile Attic moving over to our new house, and came back to throw more crap in cars and the Colorado, pulling out just as the buyers were driving down the block for their walkthrough. First hurdle, surmounted.
From there, we went to close sale of the house with a hungry 19 month old and Maria whom we’d picked-up for preschool. The closing attorney had a dog. It was an absolute boondoggle intitially, with G screaming DOGGY! DOGGY! DOGGY! while the attorney was trying to go through the myriad forms for the buyers. Eventually, it worked out and we got our check for the proceeds of the sale.
We went to R’s insurance office to sign forms for our new insurance on house & cars.
I’ll continue some more later. I need to drive home and find my wife’s toothbrush which I’ve lost.
H