We had to leave before the movers were done, they took so long.  The place is a mess, but it will be dealt with.  Didn’t even do a proper move out inspection. 

Once the truck moved to get the last item – the piano – from the top of the ramp, we could leave. Picked up our first food since breakfast.  I’m just stopped right now at a gas station, where I picked up done 5 hour energy thingies.

Weather has been slowly getting worse. Snowing. Ice warnings in the highways.

This is going to be a very careful drive. I’m glad I decided to take the longer, but less isolated, route.

When the movers came back, it was necessary to get the fish and cats to the van. So for the past few hours, I’ve been sitting here, running the engine to warm up. One cat settled in, but the other would not stop screaming.

We finally let them out of their carriers so they could wander the van.

He’s gone to the back and is quiet. She, on the other hand, has been screaming for the past while. She seems to have finally settled, though, and they are now both in the back some where.

When booking the movers, I talked to the company about packing some stuff ourselves, and the rest they would pack.  The woman I spoke to asked me to estimate how many boxes they might need. I told her I had no way to know at that point. She assured me that the movers would be prepared.  For an extra 20 cents a pound, I figured it was worth them supplying the boxes, wrappers and tape.  A partial pack, she called it.

I was up early this morning, working on as much as I could.  Basically, emptying the fridge, getting the garbage and recycling out the door to get rid of later, and so in.

We were just getting ready to start getting the back of the van ready and start taking some if the things out when I got a call from the moving van, verifying our address.  

Three guys come out. One has an arm full of packing tape.

As they fussed about and finally came to the door, I asked if they knew this was a partial pack. Oh, yes, he assured me.  

Well, to make a long story short, it turns out all that packing I did isn’t what makes it a partial pack.  If they do any packing, it’s a full pack. And our entire household will be charged as a full pack, not just what they pack.

Including the piano. 

They weren’t prepared for a full pack.  

I spoke to the company on the phone about it.  Because nothing on the file said full pack and they weren’t prepared, they could come back the next day. She “graciously” told me they could accommodate us tomorrow. 

I told her we were leaving tonight. 

She made some calls and told me the movers would get the materials from their warehouse and come back today.

I am furious.  

Meanwhile, my daughter and I have packed the van. Somehow, we have to squeeze in the litter box and the bucked with our fish that we are keeping. I hope the plants don’t freeze as we wait for them to come back.

We had intended to leave the van stuff in the house after they packed everything, let the cats loose in an otherwise empty place, and have lunch.  But we don’t trust the movers enough to not take the van stuff.  So we will have to stay. And wait.

The cats did not like bring in their carriers while we had the door wide open.

This is a disaster. 

The Re-farmer 

My daughter and I were so exhausted, we went to bed not even close to being done.  The movers will be here between 9am and noon.

I hope they come closer to noon.  I always intended this to be a partial pack, but there are too many things we done actually want them to pack.  Including a pile of things intended to go with us in the van.

I can’t believe how laid back the cats gave been through all this.

The Re-farmer 

This is it.  Our last day to finish readying everything for the move.

Yesterday started out as the day from hell.  We didn’t get to hauling out various things, but the aquarium got cleaned and, thanks to a dear friend who has gone above and beyond, we got massive amounts of other progress.  A set back of discovering we could not go to Goodwill and the eco station as planned was solved by bringing in someone who would take care of it for a small fee.  She will be back again today.

For my daughter and I, we are reaching our physical limits.  Just going up or down a flight of stairs will sometimes require stopping to rest.  We are running on energy drinks and coffee.  And pain killers.

And yet, by the end of the day, I was feeling good.  Part of it is likely because I’ve gone beyond panic mode and into the “I have no f***s to give,” mode.

However it goes, by the end of the day, it’s out of our hands. The movers come in the morning, and it will cost what it will cost. We’ll get the final tally after they go through a government scale.

Our move out inspection will be done that evening, and then we hit the road.

Our family should be under one roof again in two days.

Until then, I will enjoy some good company at a goodbye brunch being held for us. And we will get that big stuff out this evening.  We will get the stuff that will go in the van with us ready to go, including the cat carriers and litter box.  After those get loaded up tomorrow morning, everything else is up to the movers.

It’s almost done.

The Re-farmer

Yesterday, much got accomplished.  On top of progress in sorting and packing (we are pretty much out of boxes again), someone who bought a piece of furniture was a huge help.  I had other stuff I was giving away for free, but the people who said they were coming for them didn’t show.  This couple ended up taking them. There were many other things they took that were intended for Goodwill, saving us trips.  They even took the large fish we had not been able to find a new home for.

A few more large items are going away today.

It has been amazing.

Yet every time I pause a moment, numbers start floating through my mind.

I wake during the night and find I have been doing calculations in my sleep.

I have become obsessed by weight.

Everything comes down to weight.

If we have X number of boxes, and they average Y pounds, at $0.Z per pound, they will weigh XYZ. Plus the weight of the piano, plus the tank and stand, plus the mattresses and the few pieces of furniture left, plus the surcharges…

I brought our scale down and weighed a small box of books.  Then another. Despite my efforts to pack only so many books, then use light stuff as space fillers, one was over 40 pounds. The other almost exactly 40 pounds.  A small box of kitchen stuff was only 20 pounds.  

I don’t know what a lot of them weigh. The boxes? My scale is big enough for only the smallest ones. The mattresses? They are light, but then, I thought a 40 pound box weighed only 30.  The few shelves? The two remaining bed frames?  I have no idea. What am I forgetting? What about the stuff in the storage closet we haven’t even touched yet?

I adjust my average for my calculations.

If we leave the rest for the movers to pack, how many boxes will that be? How much will they weigh?

Let’s not forget the gridwall on the deck.

Oh, that other thing we need to pack. I guess we need a few more boxes, after all. How much does it weigh?

My habit of rounding up begins to freak me out.

My calculated weight goes up.

*ChachingChaching*

In my mind, I see the number in the bank account dwindle. 

That still has to pay for little things here. Do we buy more boxes? It would be cheaper to have the movers pack it. But we will still need to buy a few.

I need to buy more gas before we leave.

Once the fresh food is gone, we will be eating purchased, pre-made food only. *chaching*

We will need money for gas for the drive out.

We will need money for food during the drive.

We will need money for…

*ChachingChaching*

How much will it weigh? How much will the movers ultimately cost?

Will we have enough?

All we can do is keep bringing that weight down.

And the numbers float in my head. The calculations continue, even in my sleep.

I am completely obsessed with weight.

The Re-farmer

I think he is going to miss this broken chair.

He is part of the reason it’s broken.

One last chance for him to nap on It, before we haul it out.

My daughter texted me these photos from this morning.

When we first moved into our unit, we encountered a few mysteries.

This is one of them.

We don’t know where it comes from. There is no other end. We don’t know what it’s for. It likely has neen hanging here for about 20 years, but no one actually knows.  I’ve been told a previous occupant did a number of unauthorized modifications to the place, including wiring it for that newfangled thing called “the internet,” but I really doubt that’s what it is. Whatever it is, no attempt has been made to remove it.  It’s even got the newest paint on it.

My daughter has suggested it is the umbilical cord for our home.

We tried to anticipate as much as possible, in preparation for this move. Especially with the family split between provinces for a while.

Stocking up on medications was one thing we tried to do, but there are limits. Two of my husband’s medications are extremely powerful. And, since people have been known to abuse them, he can only get 30 days worth at a time. He also cannot get advance refills.

They are both pain killers.  He has run out.

He had tried to refill them, but without a new prescription, from an in province doctor, it can’t be done. These are not the sort of meds you can just pop into a walk in clinic for. Not that there are any walk ins anywhere nearby.

Which means he has been without any pain killers for several days, now.  

I am hoping I can get refills at this end and drive them out with us. He would get them faster that way. 

It’s hard to imagine the pain levels he is dealing with right now.

Meanwhile, they are also discovering things about the house.

As I mentioned before, it has been empty for 2 years. 

Of people, that is.

Since arriving, my daughter has been tentatively going through the kitchen, which was in about the same condition as the last time I stayed there with my father, two Easters ago. Very eclectic in supplies and condition. No wonder my dad prefered his Hungry Man dinners! Lol

Trying to cook led to the discovery that there were no frying pans, so they bought a couple of cheapies. Later, it was noticed that there were no baking pans.  Another purchase was made.

My daughter then opened the oven door. 

There she found the missing baking pans. 

Full of dead bugs.

*shudder*