50 boxes and 3 cats and much dust is home.
Feb. 2nd, 2004 10:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flexagonWe moved to the condo on Saturday, in three hours, with a big 24-foot truck and a workforce of nine. Smooth, quick and sweet, with good company, that's how I like it. :) I was so mad when Budget didn't have the 15-footer we had reserved, but it turned out our stuff filled up the 24-footer quite nicely, so that was lucky after all. We had a slight accident and splintered the very edge of someone's wooden railroad ties that hold in their lawn (what are those things called, anyway?). But that, the now-squeaky front door, and HLM's 12-year-old CD player are the only known casualties of the move. Well, those things and my very sore forearm muscles. :b
The condo is... the condo. I see its troubles and I love it anyway. Yesterday morning we found out it was covered in wood dust everywhere above eye level, apparently from the recently redone floors, so I had to clean the top pantry shelves, and the door tops and the fridge top and all that kind of thing. Then I unpacked all day until suddenly my feet gave out and turned into smashed-up little balls of pain at the end of my legs. Not good. I'm wearing my sneakers today, like I should have been yesterday, to give the poor things a break.
Props to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bluechromis for pointing out a way to make my horrid bathroom walls less depressing while we wait for remodelling money to pile up--namely, fun with paint. I've decided, for now, on black and white stripes with red trim. No, I don't know when I'll have time for this, but it'll be soon, I hope. :)
Urges are growing within me to get rid of some more clothes and stuff. Am I the only one who gets rid of some stuff while packing, then moves, then unpacks and thinks "why did I bother to move this?"? I think of myself as a non-packrat, at least if books are kept out of the equation, but evidence doesn't entirely support this claim.
The condo is... the condo. I see its troubles and I love it anyway. Yesterday morning we found out it was covered in wood dust everywhere above eye level, apparently from the recently redone floors, so I had to clean the top pantry shelves, and the door tops and the fridge top and all that kind of thing. Then I unpacked all day until suddenly my feet gave out and turned into smashed-up little balls of pain at the end of my legs. Not good. I'm wearing my sneakers today, like I should have been yesterday, to give the poor things a break.
Props to
bluechromis for pointing out a way to make my horrid bathroom walls less depressing while we wait for remodelling money to pile up--namely, fun with paint. I've decided, for now, on black and white stripes with red trim. No, I don't know when I'll have time for this, but it'll be soon, I hope. :)Urges are growing within me to get rid of some more clothes and stuff. Am I the only one who gets rid of some stuff while packing, then moves, then unpacks and thinks "why did I bother to move this?"? I think of myself as a non-packrat, at least if books are kept out of the equation, but evidence doesn't entirely support this claim.
