Thanks for a Very Moving Experience
When I moved into our house, I said that I'd strike a match and set the whole thing ablaze before I'd move again. Well, so much for that idea.
For the last three months, I've been spending every spare moment of every day packing up the accumulated physical evidence of the last 19 years of my little family's life on Cohn Street and moving it to a storage unit, one carload at a time, pretty much by myself. But furniture doesn't lend itself well to carload hauling and all my Jeanie-styled arm-folding and blinking hasn't worked to moved the big stuff. But some really good people have.
On Sunday, all the Big Stuff in the house made it to the storage unit and my gratitude abounds.
I cannot express enough thanks, first and foremost, to Schroeder for so many things; for spearheading the Big Moving Effort and sending a call-out to fellow NOLA bloggers for help; for securing some back-up help from Antonio and Carlos, just in case; for helping me with one of the small hauls the week before; for bringing extra boxes over when I needed them; and for being the absolutely stellar human being and friend that he is. And speaking of stellar human beings and friends, I extend my deep gratitude to Maitri, Ray and Mark (aka Mr. Wet), as well as Renard for the time, muscles and sweat so graciously given to make one of the most dreaded days of all, much less dreadful. Well, except for the part where Schroeder climbed about 12 feet up on the seriously weak and wiggly aluminum ladder pressed against my balcony ledge to receive the big, heavy desk that Antonio and Carlos lowered by a kinda puny rope while the rest of us pleaded with him to get down and abort this plan. Talk about dreadful! But Schroeder was fearless and confident and to our shock and awe, it worked with anyone being killed or injured.* But watching this feat, (and trying to hold the ladder, in my case), may have taken a few years off our lives.
Not everyone could make it to Cooter Brown's for a bite to eat after it was over, but thanks to PhotoShop, I'll remember it as if they were there.
Oh, one more thank-you goes out to Loki, who called and was ready to jump in if we needed another pair of hands.
I've still got a few small things to pack up and haul off in what will be less than a full carload, and then... let the (rest of the) gutting begin! Actually, I'm so anxious to get this show on the road that, as both Renard and my mother predicted, I went back to the house on Sunday night and started pulling off plaster and lath in the spots where the plaster was barely hanging on.
This kind of activity will be going on every day, so let me know if you're in the deconstructionist mode and would like to give it a literal focus, or just have some anger or anxiety you want to take out by taking out some walls. Or, like me, perhaps you get a sort of Zen thing out of it. Whatever it is, feel free to exercise it here.
Thanks again, all you good people!
* Anything producing shock and awe, uncapitalized, doesn't generally result in injury or death.