Well, the race towards moving day has officially begun. We’ve nailed down a mover and are ready to really start packing. Of course, the same old questions keep popping up as in every move. We bought some boxes, but will that be enough? Can we really get packed in time for the movers to arrive? Will the cats totally freak out? Will I ever be settled somewhere for more than two years? Will possessed wild bunnies with vampire teeth and a fifteen foot wingspan attack us on moving day? Who knows. I’ve never lived in the country before, so I am trying to be prepared for anything.
At least the house is basically ready. The kitchen never quite got all the way finished (ok, it is just a matter of hooking up the pipe to the stove hood and covering the horrible hole in the wall created for its insertion, but why couldn’t the kitchen place have finished that? oh, yeah, I forgot, it’s rocket science) and that is a major annoyance. We have some basics the electrician and plumber will take care of on moving day. Unfortunately, there will be no pictures, because our camera grew legs and disappeared mysteriously while my husband was in
And for the cherry on top of this delicious treat we call Moving Into a New Home, it looks like there might be some underground digging in order for us to get a phone line, even though all the basic wirings so we could be connected right away were supposed to have been completed when they were building the house. I’m sure we’ll be in for a year of fun Alexander Graham Bell never considered when he invented the blasted thing. A phone I can live without, but I’m sure I will die of internet starvation. There are worse things I could die from, I suppose.
All I can say is: I frakkin’ hate moving. Gods help me.