Moving Hazards

So… (awkward pause)… It’s been a while. I do apologize for the absence, but closing, packing, plumbing, almost moving (I’ll get to that in a second) and the Haiti crisis have completely depleted all creative thought. Status: we were going to move last weekend, but then the earthquake hit Haiti and Casey’s three days off got postponed (along with our move). First of all, thank you to all who have checked up on us, taken me to movies and perused Ikea with me while Casey has been working, it is so very appreciated and has kept me well entertained.

Also entertaining (or frustrating, depending on my mood): when you move, you inevitably pack up all your belongings, yes? And Kate Palmen (not using my married name here, this is an inherited Palmen trait, for sure) feels the need to “plan ahead” and so 3 days before the move, she has practically everything in a box, and a very good chunk of it already at the new house, because: “Don’t you see?” she says to her ever-patient husband, who is getting really tired of having things ripped from his hands while he is using them so it can be packed. “We can’t possibly have things just lying around the day we move. It must be all organized and labeled by what room it goes in the house. Where’s my tape gun and blue Sharpie?”

And then you don’t actually move, won’t for another two weeks, you are forced to eat your cereal out of a traveler coffee mug because someone packed all the bowls and took them to house. Plus the cups, the cookie sheets, the last roll of TP, and oh the horror, all the movies. And even if it is by some miracle still in the apartment, it’s been tightly sealed with packing tape away in a box, and good luck finding the camera cable to upload the photos of the house to show the bloggy people, it is lost in the abyss that is Kate’s organizational (de)feat.