I am moving again. This will be the third move in 3 years. The first one was a major cross-the-Atlantic kind of relocation and the last two have been within the city. Sure the new place is just a couple of blocks from our current residence, but anyone who has moved knows regardless of how much stuff you have, it always ends up being too much! Ideally I should have started the packing a week ago, but I didn’t have the right boxes. Like a God send, some magically appeared yesterday (you know who you are-thank you!). I don’t think cardboard has excited me as much. I don’t think my daughter has seen me labour as much either. Even my husband was surprised at how much I got packed in a day.
At the end of my packing furor, I looked around pleased with how much I had accomplished. Then I realized it was only boxes full of my daughter’s possessions. She is four years old. How is it that one tiny person comes with so many things?
Tomorrow I tackle a mountain. My stuff. It is not going to be pretty.
PS: the brevity of these posts is in direct correlation to my tired state of mind. It is move in week. Appreciate the patience.