OMG! The Movers Came a Day Early!

Dateline: Baldwin Park, Florida It sure is a good thing your correspondent is organized for this move. I was running a few errands this morning when my cell phone rang about 11:30 a.m. It was the moving company, saying that Mark, my driver, was wondering if he couldn't come about 1:30 p.m. and load up, hmmmm?

Holy Cow, says I. Sure 'nuf. Come on down. I guess I'm ready as I'll ever be. Almost.

For some reason, I spent an hour or so this morning making sure everything would be ready when the movers came, as scheduled, Tuesday, January 27. That was a piece of luck.

So, I raced home, after I took the call and taped up the last few boxes, tossed my bedding in a box, packed the printer for transport and put my computer on the kitchen counter where it won't be in the way of the moving guys. I don't know if this moving this has really sunk in yet. I'm feeling awfully light of heart ... more as this wild day rolls on.

3:00 p.m. It looks to me as if they are about half way through which means they could have my things packed in the truck by about 4:30. Zoom! Mark the driver works with his wife Buffy (who is sticking those number things on the furniture) and they live in Tampa. Buffy was a nurse but, she said, she didn't like being apart from Mark so much, so they now work as a team. Mark's father, 78, is doing a lot of the loading. None of these people is what you might call lithe: so I'm just hoping we don't have any heart attacks today, knock wood. Fortunately we have a perfect day: about 70 degrees (F) and low humidity. Typical Florida winter weather.

4:03 p.m. This is a little like sausage being made: you hadn't ought to watch it. Sweaty hands on that linen chair. Aaaarg. The little cabinet with the leaded glass--ouch, they just jostled it as it went down the ramp. But you have to watch, for security reasons ... and you can't help yourself!

4:38 p.m. You always hear wonderful things from workmen on days like this. The company sent out three cardboard wardrobes boxes, each one 18" wide and about three feet high for my clothes. "Those wardrobes are much too small to contain my clothes," I told Mark the Driver. "Yeah. All the companies are going to that size," he said. So if you go to a smaller size, you will have to use more of them, won't you? Hello! Another fine day for thoughtful remarks from people whom the British call "removers." (Do "removers" ever return things? Gee I hope so.)

Postscript:
I'm reminded of a visit my family and I made to the home of a retired General who was my father's commanding officer during World War II. I was working in Washington D.C. and General Clark and his wife had retired to the charming neighborhood of Spring Valley. When my parents came to visit me, The Clarks invited us over for coffee.

Their home was filled with beautiful things, the kinds of things the wife of a military officer collects over thirty years of travel around the world.

"What lovely things you have," I told Mrs. Clark.

"Oh my dear," she laughed. "Every single thing in this house has been broken at least once during a move and glued back together. So don't look too closely at anything." And then she paused, and gave me a gentle smile.

"But it is lovely in a way, because it reminds me of all my travels with my husband. And I wouldn't have traded my life with him for anything."

Subscribe to Robin Chapman News