Sad Moving Days
With the house dickering finished, we had to work out how to move. We had a closing date on a Friday, but we couldn't move in quite yet. The house needed some desperate work. Structurally it was fine (the house inspector we hired turned out to be a former student of mine--just how small is this world?), but the carpets were a dark brown shag and all the walls were painted an equally dark brown. This gave the interior a dark, dingy look, and neither of us was eager to live in such a house. It took a week for the painters we hired to repaint the house, including the basement and the kitchen cabinets, and another day for the carpeters to do their thing.
In the meantime, Darwin was commuting from Wherever every day. He was up at 5:00 AM every morning for a 90-minute drive to work, and he never got home before 7:00 PM. Bedtime had to be 9:30, so he was spending maybe two hours a day at home. It was exhausting him, and I could see it in his face. I rarely saw him--when he actually was home, he was often dozing in a chair.
Everything was nearly completed on a Monday. Only the kitchen cupboards weren't quite done. Darwin and I are well passed the "help us move for beer and pizza" stage of our lives. I found movers in Wherever and hired them, thank you.
Darwin and I had already divided up the household goods (and by "Darwin and I," I mean "I"). Darwin would take the love seat and easy chair from the living room, and I would keep the sofa. We have three TVs (a relic of combining two households), and he took one of the big ones, along with his desk, a night stand, and our bed. I also granted him enough pots and pans to get by (Darwin cooks like bachelor frat boy anyway, and wouldn't notice that he only had one frying pan), the Crock Pot (I have an Instant Pot anyway), and a handful of silverware and utensils. We took a trip to Ikea and the mall and came away with other stuff--shower curtains, area rugs, and kitchen towels and such. Darwin was Mr. Cranky-Pants most of the time. He hates shopping in all its forms, but household shopping he really despises. He especially hates it when I get picky or when I disagree with a decision he wants to make, so it made for kind of a tense outing. It didn't help that it was raining in cold buckets. But we came to detente over chicken at a restaurant.
Darwin and I were also packing. It was a daily project--get home from work, pack until bedtime, repeat. Additionally, we cleared out the basement. Max had a teenager apartment down there, but it had my original bed in it. I told him I needed the bed back, but he could have the twin bed from the guest room.
At this point, Max announced he wanted to move his bedroom back upstairs. I think this arose from a number of factors: the basement is chilly in winter; the house is bigger and emptier with Darwin gone; a general sense of isolation. So in addition to the packing, we moved Max.
We arranged for the movers to come on a Tuesday, mostly because I happened to have that day off from work. They showed up with their truck, bundled everything aboard in a trice (I love watching other people do the heavy lifting), and drove to Albion for unloading. We followed in separate cars because I had to come back to Wherever that night.
This was the first time I'd seen the Albion house since the new paint and carpet. Ohhh, it looked so much better! The yellows and pale blues and accent-wall oranges brightened up the place enormously. The white kitchen was similarly bright and airy, though it did need some color. By coincidence, a bunch of the stuff we'd bought new for the kitchen was red, and we decided to continue the theme. Red towels and dishclothes, red toaster, red coffee maker, red rug, red microwave, even red-handled knives. The contrast looked really cool.
That all came later, though. That Tuesday, I stayed at the house long enough to get basics set up so Darwin could survive. My main rule of moving is always to set up the bedroom first so when you're ready to drop after all the work, you don't realize you still have to create a place to sleep. My second rule is to set up the kitchen so you can get food up and running, but the kitchen cabinets were still drying, so we worked on other parts of the house.
Finally, it was time for me to leave. I didn't want to go. I was leaving my husband, my heart, behind. Darwin was just as upset. I drove back to Wherever, trying not cry.
That weekend, I went back to Albion to work on the house some more. Darwin, at least, was better rested, with his new five-minute commute. We did a hella lot, including the kitchen, but there was always more to do.
The silverware was missing.
Seriously--it was gone. We searched through all the boxes, all the bins, everywhere. No silverware. It was seriously weird. I remembered dividing it up and packing it, but it was nowhere to be found.
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In the meantime, Darwin was commuting from Wherever every day. He was up at 5:00 AM every morning for a 90-minute drive to work, and he never got home before 7:00 PM. Bedtime had to be 9:30, so he was spending maybe two hours a day at home. It was exhausting him, and I could see it in his face. I rarely saw him--when he actually was home, he was often dozing in a chair.
Everything was nearly completed on a Monday. Only the kitchen cupboards weren't quite done. Darwin and I are well passed the "help us move for beer and pizza" stage of our lives. I found movers in Wherever and hired them, thank you.
Darwin and I had already divided up the household goods (and by "Darwin and I," I mean "I"). Darwin would take the love seat and easy chair from the living room, and I would keep the sofa. We have three TVs (a relic of combining two households), and he took one of the big ones, along with his desk, a night stand, and our bed. I also granted him enough pots and pans to get by (Darwin cooks like bachelor frat boy anyway, and wouldn't notice that he only had one frying pan), the Crock Pot (I have an Instant Pot anyway), and a handful of silverware and utensils. We took a trip to Ikea and the mall and came away with other stuff--shower curtains, area rugs, and kitchen towels and such. Darwin was Mr. Cranky-Pants most of the time. He hates shopping in all its forms, but household shopping he really despises. He especially hates it when I get picky or when I disagree with a decision he wants to make, so it made for kind of a tense outing. It didn't help that it was raining in cold buckets. But we came to detente over chicken at a restaurant.
Darwin and I were also packing. It was a daily project--get home from work, pack until bedtime, repeat. Additionally, we cleared out the basement. Max had a teenager apartment down there, but it had my original bed in it. I told him I needed the bed back, but he could have the twin bed from the guest room.
At this point, Max announced he wanted to move his bedroom back upstairs. I think this arose from a number of factors: the basement is chilly in winter; the house is bigger and emptier with Darwin gone; a general sense of isolation. So in addition to the packing, we moved Max.
We arranged for the movers to come on a Tuesday, mostly because I happened to have that day off from work. They showed up with their truck, bundled everything aboard in a trice (I love watching other people do the heavy lifting), and drove to Albion for unloading. We followed in separate cars because I had to come back to Wherever that night.
This was the first time I'd seen the Albion house since the new paint and carpet. Ohhh, it looked so much better! The yellows and pale blues and accent-wall oranges brightened up the place enormously. The white kitchen was similarly bright and airy, though it did need some color. By coincidence, a bunch of the stuff we'd bought new for the kitchen was red, and we decided to continue the theme. Red towels and dishclothes, red toaster, red coffee maker, red rug, red microwave, even red-handled knives. The contrast looked really cool.
That all came later, though. That Tuesday, I stayed at the house long enough to get basics set up so Darwin could survive. My main rule of moving is always to set up the bedroom first so when you're ready to drop after all the work, you don't realize you still have to create a place to sleep. My second rule is to set up the kitchen so you can get food up and running, but the kitchen cabinets were still drying, so we worked on other parts of the house.
Finally, it was time for me to leave. I didn't want to go. I was leaving my husband, my heart, behind. Darwin was just as upset. I drove back to Wherever, trying not cry.
That weekend, I went back to Albion to work on the house some more. Darwin, at least, was better rested, with his new five-minute commute. We did a hella lot, including the kitchen, but there was always more to do.
The silverware was missing.
Seriously--it was gone. We searched through all the boxes, all the bins, everywhere. No silverware. It was seriously weird. I remembered dividing it up and packing it, but it was nowhere to be found.
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