Boxed In

I was sure last time I moved I wasn’t moving anymore. The two of us had quite a collection of extra special moving boxes, which we decided to throw away the day we moved to the house. I was really ticked I had to go out and actually buy moving boxes again. And, it was quite the move. A whirlwind three trips for stuff and one special trip and extra bodies for the pool table, and we were done. Only one broken thing that I’m aware of and I’m nearing the bottom of the boxes. Cleaning was the major issue. The things people leave behind tell so much about them. I determined from the debris that they were from another country (probably India), had a child, someone in the family had diabetes and someone else had really bad indigestion, and they had bad taste in art. Neither of them were good housekeepers and they both had a bad eye for where to hang things on the wall, as the myriad holes attest.

 

My friend Lisa gamely came up to help with the venture and was a buzzsaw of energy. Unfortunately, in the morning, when I got up to take Ben to school, I noticed her car was not parked where she’d left it. Yep, it was stolen. Nice welcome to the neighborhood, huh? Half of the next day was spent at work (dealing with crisis), driving Lisa to various car theft related events and appearances, and scrubbing bathrooms and the kitchen down with the contents of a 50-gallon drum of bleach.

 

I am now on day four of putting the house together. Yesterday, I went to Laure’s , joining the kids with German Chocolate cake and gifts in hand. It was kind of sad, that visit to my old home. Laure and her roommate were busily making the place their own though traces of me linger, for now.

 

Each day I’ve woken up happy and excited. I’ve not worked this hard for a long time, but I’m bettin’ that once the wallpaper is down and new paint is up, this will be our home, just as we’ve made each place our home through the years. My tiger picture is going back up. I hope I don’t move again for several years, but just in case, I’ve hung onto the moving boxes.

 

Goodbye, and hello, as always. -- Roger Zelazny

 Published on: Mar 5, 2006