The Pain of Moving

I am concerned. I'm driving to Kansas City tomorrow to move my stuff. However, Wiley's stuff is here in Bloomington. I figured today would be a good day to move a few things, so Wiley's friend 708 helped me move Wiley's big-azz bed. Normally, I wouldn't think that a queen-sized bed would be so big. But when you move it, then you suddenly realize just how big something is. First, stuff sprung up all around Wiley's stuff in the garage where his stuff has been stored, and I really think his stuff multiplied because I don't remember putting that many bins in the garage. Stuff stuff stuff. So finding the bed proved impossible unless we entered the garage from the side of the house. Ta da! Bed. So 708 and I move it outside and try to get it and the box spring into the van. On first push, no go. On second push, his side went; mine stayed put. One third push, mine went, along with a big, "Riiipppppppp". So much for the plastic mattress cover. On the fourth push, the bed wouldn't go in any farther, and there were still four inches hanging out. So we took the box springs out and took out a seat. One, two, three, heave, and the box spring is in. The mattress, however, proves a bit more difficult, and we have to bend it - I say we, but at this time, I am under the mattress with the mattress on my back, trying to push it in that way - and finally, the bed slides into place in the van. Unloading it wasn't quite so difficult, but man, is the bedroom small. I think all the furniture will fit, but it could be an interesting time on Sunday.

It's been raining here the last two days. As Wiley's telling me that Missouri is under a flood watch, I tell him that we are too. And then it hits me: I never asked if the duplex was in a flood plain. I immediately buzz off an email to my landlord, who confirms my fear that I am, in fact, living in a flood plain. "But it's never flooded," he assured me, and I have visions of cats floating away on top of furniture. Today, when I went to the duplex, there was the creek, swollen and rushing. The sound is heavenly to me; but the sight, not so much. Must remember to get sand bags - just in case.

It took about an hour to load and unload that damn bed, and of course, as we finished, it stopped raining. I decided to go back and get a few more bins. Then I unloaded the bins. Then I went back for five more bins, and this is where the concern comes in: save for the dishes and the silverware, I already have a fully functioning kitchen. I have pots and pans, two measuring cups, beer steins, a couple coffee mugs, a waffle iron , a crock pot, a stock pot, a pizza pan, a lasagna pan, and two cookbooks. With cookbooks titled "A Man, A Can, A Plan" and "Where's My Mother Now that I Need Her?", I can get busy in the kitchen. No Barefoot Contessa here. Nosireebob. Since we're merging, I will be getting rid of this and that, namely Wiley's things. Hahahahahahahaha. Serves you right for making me do this alone!!! Wiley's got some cool kitchen gadgets, and he might even have better pans, but I think my Belgian waffle maker beats his little waffle maker, so his is going to go. My crockpot is newer, and wayyy prettier, so his will go. This is going to continue throughout the entire house. So far, six bins are unloaded.

Now where do you draw the line on things like beer steins and plastic cups from your alma mater? I like school spirit as much as the next person, but the plastic cups are big and obtrusive. Couldn't we just put a pig's head up on the wall? I don't hold onto things the way Wiley does. Narrowing things down, weeding things out...it's going to take a little time. Bah.