Move #4
Since Darwin and I have been married, we've moved three times. This was Move #4, and both of us swear it's the LAST ONE!
I can't lift very much above my head, or even straight out in front of me (thank you, surgery), and Darwin was driving an hour and a quarter to work and back every day, so we hired a company that would both move and pack. We did pack some stuff beforehand--things we didn't want other people to handle--and I dismantled the various electronics system, but the rest we left to the movers.
I was actually less than impressed.
The moving team did swoop in with five burly guys and set to work. They worked fast, but we later realized they didn't label the boxes well. They just wrote KITCHEN or TOOLS on the boxes and that was pretty much it.
On top of it, we were having trouble with the painters. The painters arrived to start work on Tuesday to redo chunks of the interior of our new house. They said they'd be done by Wednesday evening. Then it was by Thursday morning. Then Thursday evening. Then Friday morning. Then they admitted they wouldn't be done until sometime on Saturday. Probably late afternoon or evening.
This announcement caused some frantic consternation. The movers would arrive long before the painters were done. What the heck were we going to do?
Meanwhile, the movers cheerfully boxed and taped and hauled. They emptied out the condo while Darwin and I tried to figure out what to do. We finally decided I'd go down to Ypsilanti (we were both at the condo in Waterford) to get a better look at the problem while Darwin stayed to supervise the movers and let them into the storage place so they could get that stuff as well.
I drove down to Ypsi, and yeah, the painters were nowhere near done enough. Dropcloths still on the floors, painter's tape everywhere. ("Got one coat left on this room!") Only the basement rec room was done.
Darwin phoned to say the movers were heading down. I told him about the condition of the house and basement. We thought about it and decided that we'd just have the movers put everything into the basement or the garage. What else could we do?
When the movers arrived, that's what we did. It created stacks of boxes in both places. The movers liked the easier job! The furniture was going into the basement anyway--we had new stuff coming on Sunday--but we weren't sure what to do about a place to sleep. The bed was set up, but the house wasn't really habitable yet. In the end, we spent the night at a hotel.
Saturday morning, we hovered around the house while the painters finished up. At =last= they announced they were packing up to leave. Yesterday, I noticed paint dust on everything--windowsills, bathroom counters, the stove. Everywhere. The owner of the company assured us they wiped down all surfaces before they left. Okay, then. But Saturday as they told us they were leaving, I saw no signs that they were going to clean. I mentioned this to Darwin.
"I don't care," he said. "I just want them done and OUT!"
The painters finally left, but the house was indeed covered in work dust. Darwin and I went around with rags and cleaner and cleaned =everything.= It took hours.
And then the Great Unpacking began for us. Though when I say "us," I mean "me." Darwin had to work on Monday (and the rest of the week), so most of the work fell to me. I started with the kitchen.
Once I began, I realized that the painters had kind of done us a favor. Because of them, the interior of the house was clear. No boxes or jumbles of furniture. This was good for my state of mind. Living in a cardboard forest is stressful--I feel like I have to GET IT ALL DONE NOW! But under the current conditions, I just went into the garage, grabbed a box, brought it in, unpacked it, broke the box down, and went out for another box. Meanwhile, the house itself remained clear. I'll remember this the next time we--
NO! NOT MOVING AGAIN!
By the following weekend, nearly everything was unpacked that needed to be. The only stuff left in the garage was stuff that belonged there in the first place. Ditto for the basement store room. They were --still are--a jumbled up mess, but it wasn't anything we had to do right now. Instead, we did stuff like look for throw rugs, bathroom accessories, and other little things the house needed.
But we still had the office ...
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I can't lift very much above my head, or even straight out in front of me (thank you, surgery), and Darwin was driving an hour and a quarter to work and back every day, so we hired a company that would both move and pack. We did pack some stuff beforehand--things we didn't want other people to handle--and I dismantled the various electronics system, but the rest we left to the movers.
I was actually less than impressed.
The moving team did swoop in with five burly guys and set to work. They worked fast, but we later realized they didn't label the boxes well. They just wrote KITCHEN or TOOLS on the boxes and that was pretty much it.
On top of it, we were having trouble with the painters. The painters arrived to start work on Tuesday to redo chunks of the interior of our new house. They said they'd be done by Wednesday evening. Then it was by Thursday morning. Then Thursday evening. Then Friday morning. Then they admitted they wouldn't be done until sometime on Saturday. Probably late afternoon or evening.
This announcement caused some frantic consternation. The movers would arrive long before the painters were done. What the heck were we going to do?
Meanwhile, the movers cheerfully boxed and taped and hauled. They emptied out the condo while Darwin and I tried to figure out what to do. We finally decided I'd go down to Ypsilanti (we were both at the condo in Waterford) to get a better look at the problem while Darwin stayed to supervise the movers and let them into the storage place so they could get that stuff as well.
I drove down to Ypsi, and yeah, the painters were nowhere near done enough. Dropcloths still on the floors, painter's tape everywhere. ("Got one coat left on this room!") Only the basement rec room was done.
Darwin phoned to say the movers were heading down. I told him about the condition of the house and basement. We thought about it and decided that we'd just have the movers put everything into the basement or the garage. What else could we do?
When the movers arrived, that's what we did. It created stacks of boxes in both places. The movers liked the easier job! The furniture was going into the basement anyway--we had new stuff coming on Sunday--but we weren't sure what to do about a place to sleep. The bed was set up, but the house wasn't really habitable yet. In the end, we spent the night at a hotel.
Saturday morning, we hovered around the house while the painters finished up. At =last= they announced they were packing up to leave. Yesterday, I noticed paint dust on everything--windowsills, bathroom counters, the stove. Everywhere. The owner of the company assured us they wiped down all surfaces before they left. Okay, then. But Saturday as they told us they were leaving, I saw no signs that they were going to clean. I mentioned this to Darwin.
"I don't care," he said. "I just want them done and OUT!"
The painters finally left, but the house was indeed covered in work dust. Darwin and I went around with rags and cleaner and cleaned =everything.= It took hours.
And then the Great Unpacking began for us. Though when I say "us," I mean "me." Darwin had to work on Monday (and the rest of the week), so most of the work fell to me. I started with the kitchen.
Once I began, I realized that the painters had kind of done us a favor. Because of them, the interior of the house was clear. No boxes or jumbles of furniture. This was good for my state of mind. Living in a cardboard forest is stressful--I feel like I have to GET IT ALL DONE NOW! But under the current conditions, I just went into the garage, grabbed a box, brought it in, unpacked it, broke the box down, and went out for another box. Meanwhile, the house itself remained clear. I'll remember this the next time we--
NO! NOT MOVING AGAIN!
By the following weekend, nearly everything was unpacked that needed to be. The only stuff left in the garage was stuff that belonged there in the first place. Ditto for the basement store room. They were --still are--a jumbled up mess, but it wasn't anything we had to do right now. Instead, we did stuff like look for throw rugs, bathroom accessories, and other little things the house needed.
But we still had the office ...
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