The Zen of Packing
When, oh when, will I be a "real" grownup and stop moving? I get more impatient for the settled life with each move: a house, a garden, a dog or two running around, a partner running around tinkering with things that I don't tinker with myself (he, for example, is much better with car engines than I am, while I am better with sewing machines and mysterious kitchen implements). Horribly gender normative, perhaps, but that's the way things go sometimes.
Anyway, this move is going to be a bear. We're moving the third week in April, into a storage unit in Vermont. Well, our stuff is moving there. We're house-sitting for an adventurous aunt for a few months, rent free, so long as we take care of the cat and Ivan's grandmother who lives downstairs. Then we'll move into an apartment yet to be found, then hopefully start the hunt for a house that we can afford in the next couple of years.
Meaning the organization of the boxes and the stuff is only slightly short of a nightmare.
Which means that there will need to be a party, but not in the apartment. I'm thinking Feast, over in Wicker Park, for dinner with folks....thoughts?
Anyway, this move is going to be a bear. We're moving the third week in April, into a storage unit in Vermont. Well, our stuff is moving there. We're house-sitting for an adventurous aunt for a few months, rent free, so long as we take care of the cat and Ivan's grandmother who lives downstairs. Then we'll move into an apartment yet to be found, then hopefully start the hunt for a house that we can afford in the next couple of years.
Meaning the organization of the boxes and the stuff is only slightly short of a nightmare.
Which means that there will need to be a party, but not in the apartment. I'm thinking Feast, over in Wicker Park, for dinner with folks....thoughts?
posted by Al at 9:11 PM
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