I survived the Sunday move chaos, barely. In my pregnant state, I did indeed loose it a few times and had to retreat to a quiet corner of the house while people were yelling at me to find them a hammer, screws or a broom, none of which I could find in the clutter of boxes. A screwdriver that was on our kitchen island one minute could be downstairs near the furnace the next. The dogs stayed glued to me all day, comforted by the sheer fact that they knew me, but had no idea what was happening. We had people in and out of our house all day, new people, old people, and family and friends. Some carrying boxes or shoving couches through doorways and others chasing toddlers and holding babies. All new things to our poor scared dogs.
Our friends had secured a 5-tonne truck. And for me, that description means nothing. But when it arrived I realized that “5-tonne” meant “HUGE”. They were able to make one trip from our old townhouse to our new house and were able to bring pretty much every piece of furniture and every cardboard box we had stashed there. I stood, along with some friends in the coolness of the garage inspecting boxes as they came off the truck and shouted room names to muscled men holding mattresses while the snow came down. It was efficient and fast, and utterly blew my mind at how smooth it went in general. Not a single piece of china was lost in the move, and other than a few dings, the furniture arrived pretty much unscathed. The only piece that caused a ruckus was my wine cabinet. She is a beast of a cabinet. Designed by me, and built by my cousin, a carpenter in Cornwall, she has been the central focus of our dining room for years. She was built in pieces and designed to come apart, but the guys just couldn’t quite figure out her puzzled ways, and decided that as hefty as she was, she would be moved in one piece. It took a good 5 strong men to maneuver her around, slide her through the doorway and up-end her to push her around corners to her final resting place in our front den, the only room with a wall big enough to house her. Sadly she won’t fit in our new dining room, nor our living room. Hopefully in time we’ll clean up that front room so she will be the focus again.
By 4pm the move was pretty much done. Everyone started to head home, clutching their lower backs and walking with stiff legs back to their cars. There was much chaos that day, but even more love, complete with hugs of appreciation and warm bowls of chili. Our good friends had stepped up in our time of need, and our karma from years of moving various friends and family had paid off. We were humbled by the generosity of so many.
With everyone gone, Hubby, myself and our dogs crawled into our king sized bed and all sighed and moaned, both in pain and exhaustion, as we curled up under the duvets, in the quiet of our house, the howling of the winter wind the only sound to lull us to sleep.