Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Paper Fingers

After months of construction, minor trials and tribulations - WE'RE IN!

"We're in" is not to be defined as "amazingly-they-have-everything-in-it's-place" - it's more of a looser term meaning that things were indeed delivered in many boxes, things have been removed from said boxes and are currently sitting in around in great piles waiting to be put some where at some time.   I have not given myself a goal as to when this will be done.

All I know is that, unlike prior moves when I had everything done and pictures hung in 72 hours (or less), this particular move is going at a much slower pace.  Why?  I am old.  10 years of aging has a way of making you decide that going to bed is a much better option than staying up until the wee hours of the morn trying to figure out where the coffee table books look their loveliest.  Now, my feet and legs are screaming out "stop you damn fool!"  Not to mention that George the Elder has been riding my butt reminding me that nothing is going anywhere - - so why kill yourself...  True that.

Along with tired aching joints and the almost feral desire to buy numerous pairs of stupid looking, yet comfortable, shoes (like crocs or something of the sort) - - I am now sporting some of the driest hands this side of the Central Time Zone.  I forget that when unwrapping china (along with nearly everything else that had been in storage for the past 2 years - - including a small wrapped package containing exactly one small plastic die in three large sheets of packing paper) that each move has likely been directly responsible for the decimation of enough rain forest to displace a moderately sized village of  Kayapo tribesman.  It's mid blowing.  I must finger each one of those pieces of paper.  Unwrapping, flattening and repacking the paper to take up less space that then box it was delivered it.  The result?  Paper Fingers.  The kind of dry that no amount of industrial strength bag balm can address.  Only time, and the eventual molting of all hand skin, will heal.

I do have photos of the house right before we moved in - - so I will post those as soon as George the Elder can figure out how we lost our video signal on our computer from the time it was disconnected at the temp apartment and reconnected here at the CMR.

And, at some time in the future, when all the art books have been creatively arranged and the myriad of elementary school ceramics have been places on shelves, I will also take some photos of the CMR-with-stuff.   Cools beans for sure!


2W3 said...

Having moved as much, the hackles on the back of my neck stood at attention at the description of paper fingers. So, so true! You left out one major evolution of moving, - somewhere between dropping a dish because you thought the box was empty and the frantic, albeit useless search for a teapot lid through a mountain of discarded paper, one always shouts "I am never moving again!"

KB said...

It is awesome. And I am going to have to find a reason to visit simply to have an excuse to use that wine closet.

Molly~ said...

Pictures!! (please)