Tired….

My little brother and my dad and I moved most of my stuff this weekend. There are a few things left in the closets and such, but not much. It happened kinda suddenly, so there wasn’t really time to get anybody else’s help, even though various people had expressed willingness to help out. My little brother used to work out on the ramp moving giant express packages, though, so he decided that he should supervise all the furniture moving and use his big moving pusher thing on pretty much everything. My dad was the auxiliary muscle, and I was mostly consigned to packing loose stuff and books, and then carrying the boxes. This made it faster and safer in some ways, but it also tired Kevin out more than he really wanted to admit. So yeah, we were all dragging toward the end, but I had to spot him a few times.

Part of the speed, and part of the tiredness, came from Kevin’s decision that I should not be allowed to box the books and then unpack them again at my new apartment. Nope. He decided that we should move my doublestacked bookshelves as they were, after wrapping them in that plastic packing wrap that sticks to itself (with bubble wrap stuffing as needed). This was not super-cheap (or super-safe, in the case of bookshelves that were too large or irregularly packed), and the mass made it easier to damage the bookshelves if you ran them into something. (Though those bookshelves were pretty well chipped already, and they’re my cheapies.) But it did have the merit of speed, and reduced my moving footprint by not including huge numbers of book boxes. Also, I have to admit that the packing wrap stuff is fun.

After they went home, however, I ended up deciding that I wanted the three smaller bookshelves upstairs. So I waited till the next day, unshelved the books, dragged the shelves upstairs, and reshelved. Much slower, but it also gave me the opportunity to cull.

I should acknowledge here that the neighbor kids at my new place were very helpful, insisting on helping us carry in the small stuff. (They wanted to help carry the big stuff, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen.) They seem like nice kids. I didn’t have anything in the house to offer them, alas, and of course one doesn’t want to offer much in the way of food or drink these days, because so many kids are on weird diets. One wants to be nice but not presumptuous or creepy. So I’m trying to think of something hospitable for this coming Saturday, or whenever I get this place more into shape. (It has to be on the weekend, because I’ll be working when the kids are out playing. Not that most kids are able to play outside on weeknights, given all the sports and busywork homework today.)

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