In June, 2009, I moved from Alaska to Seattle. My house didn’t sell right away–the house itself didn’t sell until June of 2010. The house itself was fine, sturdy, well built, energy efficient.
The problem was us. First, our furniture was ugly. It was an eclectic mixture of discount and old family furniture as well as a few pieces that…oh well, best to describe them, isn’t it? I had an old steamer trunk that my parents had given me in high school. I didn’t have room for it until I finished graduate school. It needed to be refinished when they gave it to me, but I hated it. I can remember sanding the wood work and being corrected by my father about the right way to sand something. He wasn’t the most gentle individual in his corrections and I didn’t pick up sandpaper for years after that.
So, there’s the steamer trunk and the treadmill. Skip was still working and he found it hard to go to the gym after work so he bought a treadmill. I guess most people put theirs in the basement. Skip put it right into the middle of the dining room, which was sandwiched between the kitchen and the living room, so you had to walk past the treadmill on your way to the kitchen for breakfast. It worked for Skip when he was batching it.
Then there was Skip’s home office, which took over our master bedroom. I think with longing of the home office delicately tucked into a nook under the stairwell. Not ours. We had to have a giant computer, a printer/scanner/fax machine, office supplies, business folders, journals, DVD teaching sets which overwhelmed the space. As I look at my living room, I see that not much has changed.
I went up to Alaska in March 2009 to work on the house and got trapped up there the week that the volcano blew. I packed everything I could find, leaving some things for Skip. I was scheduled to leave on a Friday morning and didn’t make it out until late Friday night–but when it comes to flying, better safe than sorry.
When Skip went up to move in June, 2009, he packed up what was left and supervised the move, which interestingly enough, turned out to be 50% more expensive than he was quoted. When they got to Seattle, the movers dumped everything into our garage. It is still stacked to the rafters with boxes. I know, why not go work on the garage instead of just writing about it? I do, I do. One step forward, two steps back. For every time I go in there and arrange the boxes, Skip will go in and rearrange the boxes. I blew out my shoulder this past summer and can no longer lift them. We are moving in June or July and somehow I am going to have to get to them.
Anyway, more importantly, in December 2009, Skip wanted to take us to Arizona for Christmas. It was memorable. Both Tad and I had swine flu, although we didn’t know it at the time, and had no way to find out what was wrong. We weren’t eligible for the vaccine and if you were sick in Seattle, they didn’t want you coming into the doctor’s office or the emergency department. Instead of unpacking our Christmas ornaments, we were freezing in Arizona. So much for sun and fun.
Most of what was important to us came in the move–our financial papers from the beginning of time, our family photos, my grandmother’s china (broken, chipped) and silver-plated dinnerwear. We are missing one large bear (about four and a half feet tall) and all our Christmas ornaments. So, what I would ask you is, if you somehow got our stuff, can you return it? Or at least let us know that Yogi is in a landfill somewhere? Yogi is missing, but we still have Simon, who when filled with batteries chants “Do you want to play?”
You know where to reach me.
Thank you so much. Minnow Tracer.