The Moving Van Cometh!

Friday


Before the moving van came, we hustled the cats out to the RV. Well, Raymond hustled Oliver, and I guess it was a good thing Raymond had on his thick outer shirt. When he got inside, he hoisted Oliver to the over-the-cab bed, where the poor cat promptly went to the farthest corner behind a pillow I had put there and cowered.

We could not find Ceci in the house for love nor money, and the moving van came and I still had not found her. So I started upstairs, going from room to room, closing the door to the room when I was absolutely positive she wasn't in there. Finally came to the family room, and I actually started turning over the furniture! Then I realized she had probably gone behind Raymond's bookcase, because the back on that bookcase does not come all the way to the floor. She came crawling out, miserably terrified. I felt like a heel, but I caught her, put her in the cardboard (and therefore blind) cat carrier. Plaintive doesn't even begin to describe the cries she let out. I put her in the RV on the cab-bed, too, and she promptly joined Oliver. Throughout the day, I'd come to see them, even going so far as to clamber up there and snooze for a bit with them. Those two guys were cozied up to each other so tightly; something you'd've never seen at home, since Ceci tended to be bratty toward Oliver, and he'd back down. We prefer to think of him as a gentleman, but in truth, he's a wuss.

The mail forwarding is working. The carrier came past while I was in town getting our lunch from McDonald's, and Raymond said she wished us well, and that all the mail is now being forwarded. It'll get to North Carolina before we do, of course.

The van driver was much later than anticipated, but of course he had to weigh the truck at the scales before we loaded, then weigh again after loading today. There were three movers in addition to the driver (and his wife). Even with the extra hand—I gather they normally only have two movers—it was still evening before the van could close its doors. Despite my pointing out to the driver (and he pointing out to one of the movers) the three boxes in my office that DO NOT GO on the moving van, my MFA rolling tote was loaded, and by the time I realized they'd done that, it was far too late to snatch it back. It's not as if I can't work without it, but I'm uneasy about it being too far from me. It has all my annotations, my critical theory work, my first semester evaluation, etc. At least the box of my second semester books is in the trunk of the Honda.

We got some bad news toward the middle of the afternoon. All passes going east on the northern routes are closed. We have to go down through California, then turn east on I-40.

The house echoes, and it seems a sad place, with bits of dust and dirt, and odds and ends of string and fur in forlorn corners. It is really helpful to us that the family is coming tomorrow and Sunday to clean the house inside and out. We've asked our realtor here to hire steam cleaners to get the carpets in the bedrooms done. We'll send her a check to reimburse her for the carpet cleaners once we know the amount.




Christopher's Room


















Lindsey's Room














I went to Hunan Garden to get Take Out of some of our favorite Chinese dishes. Saw Angie and Anne, our favorite waitresses, and said good-bye.

Went to bed early. Don't know why. (See 2 February)