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House? Not so much with the packed-as-much-as-it-needed-to-be by Saturday night, due in some measure to brainiacfive's inadvertent but substantially successful attempt to damage himself a couple weeks back, with the result that the doc told him no lifting of heavy stuff for two to four weeks. (Yes, we're fairly certain at this point that we have Offended The Moving Gods in some minor but noticeable fashion.) This was in spite of a little help from our friends, for which we are veddyveddy grateful. :: waves at empress_schwa and kevin_mowery ::

So, yesterday morning, the decision was made for me to call off work today and put in another day. Very glad I did so, and will remind myself of that as often as necessary when I contemplate my inbox tomorrow. But, lots and lots of packing was accomplished, enough that I left reasonably confident that hubby will be able to get the rest in shape for the movers' arrival without actually killing himself. 'Cause that would be bad, and counterproductive, and all that. (The killing himself, that is.)

This weekend we codified Four Great Truths of Moving Chez Kessler:
  1. There are always more books.
  2. There are always more dolls.
  3. There is always more old mail.
  4. There are always more books.

1, 2 and 4 are hopeless, but I believe the lesson has been learned regarding 3. It was driven home by hubby feeding lots and lots and lots of very old stuff that we no longer need, but which nonetheless had sensitive information on it, into our little household shredder, until he was ready to beat something to death with said shredder (and probably complete the task of damaging himself in the process). NeighborLady then offered the use of her patio chiminea as an alternative, which sounded like fun and which we were all set to do, until it decided to rain pretty much all day yesterday. At which point yours truly, in her infinite brilliance, suggested that we should just get one last use out of our fireplace, and get rid of the papers in the process. (New house has a fireplace, but it's gas, which, while more convenient, is somewhat less fun.) (Yes, my NatPacker pyro tendencies occasionally get the better of me.) By that time, the candidates for burning were not just the sensitive papers, but pretty much any paper that was Going Away, because our trash container (which gets emptied Thursday) is currently stuffed beyond capacity with about half of the crappy old wood we pulled off our deck when we refurbished it.

There is still a small pile under the deck which we have decided not to worry about, but all the stuff in the trash container has nails sticking out of it, and therefore Had To Go. Which was just all kinds of fun when it came time to wheeling the (90-gallon) trash container full of (about 120 gallons of) wood from the backyard to the curb. Did you know that, with that much weight, neither the wheels on the container nor the layer of winter-dormant grass between the wheels and the mud really help as much as you might think? I should have. *winces*

This, of course, leaves no place to throw away the rest of the week's actual trash until the day the movers come. It's being stashed in the yard waste bin (regular size trash can) and a couple of boxes deemed not suitably sturdy for actually packing stuff in, to be transferred to the big container once the trash truck comes Thursday. Because in Columbus, if it isn't in the container, and you haven't arranged for a bulk pickup (limited to certain things, which include neither lots of wood with nails sticking out of it, nor excess general trash)? It ain't going anywhere. (Yes, the wood should have gone away sooner, but that involved carving it up into manageable chunks [yay, circular saw! *insert Tim Allen grunts*], which required relatively non-inclement weather, which has been, oddly enough, in short supply on my more recent trips.) Hence, burning of paper.

The actual burning part went perfectly smoothly. Highly satisfactory reduction of three mostly-full tall kitchen bags of paper to a pile of ash that half-filled a paper grocery bag. Cleaning it out of the fireplace this morning? Somewhat less smooth. The initial plan involved the practice that has worked just fine in the past -- i.e., for the remains of one packaged sawdust-and-paraffin firelog at a time: Get out the vacuum cleaner, put on the attachments, zip, zip, gone.

For the superfine ash resulting from a fire consisting entirely of paper? Not so much. Or maybe it was just the volume. Or maybe it was finally the vacuum cleaner's time. Actually, probably some combination of that last one (considering that it's been impossible to use the thing without earplugs for a couple years now) and some or all of the other factors. In any case, once we had the exhaust fans going in both bathrooms and the kitchen, and the requisite Pompeii jokes had been made, it was decided to add the vacuum cleaner to the carload of thrift store donations I had been about to take over to the store, and that I would then return with the shop vac we had already decided to buy, but were going to wait until we were in the new house. Figured, hey, they're not all that heavy (at least when empty), and it can just be packed back in its original box and sent with the movers.

All fine and dandy, mission accomplished. Nice 12-gallon, 5 HP shop vac. Not humongous, but will do pretty much any job we want.

Except, as I discovered on the first page of the manual, vacuum out the fireplace. See, it's in the safety warnings that you shouldn't do that, because fireplace ash can be too fine for the filter and cause damage to the vacuum.

Which is probably at least part of what rendered the regular vacuum less than ideal the last couple years. (Not that it was ever fantastic, but its performance has definitely diminished.) Oops.

So, after this entire operation, I ended up scooping it out with the little broom and shovel from the fireplace tools, the way I should have in the first place. Which, while it took about 15 minutes instead of 45 seconds, was equally effective in the end and really not all that difficult. Scattered the ash across the bottom of the backyard, all done.

Then there was packing up the car with various stuff that either the movers won't take or we don't want them to, such as unwieldy rolls of fabric, my wedding and senior prom dresses, and assorted archaic weaponry. (Which, although I had not previously tried it, all fit perfectly in the golf bag I picked up at the thrift store a while back so I could stop having to take my clubs out of my actual golf bag every time I wanted to take swords somewhere. Even the chakram just fits in the side pocket, and with some slight fiddling I was able to zip the cover over all the hilts. I wouldn't be able to do that if my swept-hilt rapier were in it, but it was already here.)

And then I drove back to Chicago, and now I'm really tired. The end.

ETA: Also? I forgot my clean laundry. Which, since I am Girl With Way Too Many Clothes, is not a catastrophe, just a small *facepalm*. I can live without it until Friday. %-}


( 12 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 22nd, 2005 11:24 am (UTC)
BOOKS!! Always more, always heavier than you think, and always the worst to distribute among other boxes so that not any one box comes out too heavy. God I hate moving...
Feb. 22nd, 2005 02:11 pm (UTC)
Actually, we just have dozens and dozens of small-enough boxes of just books. There's no WAY we'd be able to distribute them among other boxes. We're pretty sure they're a full half of the weight of everything we own, including the furniture...
Feb. 22nd, 2005 02:18 pm (UTC)
That's usually how it is for me, and half of the remaining half is video tapes and CDs.
Feb. 22nd, 2005 04:05 pm (UTC)
Probably pretty close here, although they're at least less dense...
Feb. 22nd, 2005 04:39 pm (UTC)
There is that. We take our saving graces where we can find them!
Feb. 22nd, 2005 01:21 pm (UTC)
I have to say, I am just inordinately amused by the thought of a golf bag full of weaponry...
Feb. 22nd, 2005 02:12 pm (UTC)
Hee! I am amused by it beyond all reason. Especially the part where it all fits so well...
Feb. 22nd, 2005 02:25 pm (UTC)
BTW, please tell your husband that a broken Jack is not a good thing... ;)
Feb. 22nd, 2005 04:05 pm (UTC)
*chuckle* Believe me, he's acutely aware. But I'll make sure he knows you said so.
Feb. 22nd, 2005 04:38 pm (UTC)
Thanks. ;) It's been WAY too long since I've seen either one of you. ::pouts::
Feb. 22nd, 2005 05:58 pm (UTC)
Damn. That's some BUSINESS! 8O
Feb. 22nd, 2005 05:59 pm (UTC)
Heee! It does seem like a lot, doesn't it? (And I'm not even getting into the business business, i.e. the paperwork and closing and all that jazz.)

But at the end of this week, it will be ALL DONE except for the arranging the house the way we want it. SQUEEEEE!
( 12 comments — Leave a comment )


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