Well, I thought I'd post once again, seeing as a.) Kate isn't back yet, b.) you may be in want of something trivial to read, and c.) I've found myself alone with a brand-new computer (R.'s — not mine). :-)

The day finally arrived yesterday. I honestly can't remember the last time I was actually entirely packed before the moving truck showed up. Yesterday was the same. My brother had graciously packed up my books, Grant's toys and several other things, but I still had a lot of clothes, bedding and JUNK around to box up. Given that I'm not all that organized these days, there was a lot of stuff strewn around that seemed not to lend itself to general categorization.

So I bought trash bags and just started filling them. Funnily enough, the one trash bag I'd actually designated for trash got moved along with us. It was fairly unpleasant last night when I was looking for something and opened a bag of used diapers, dusty papers and general crap. Unpleasant, but also funny as hell to me and my sister. But I digress...

My sister and brother should be canonized. So should my baby sister, even though she was unavailable yesterday. They've all helped me move maybe four times in the past ten years, and they've done so willingly, optimistically and uncomplainingly. They are amazing people. My parents have also helped on the administrative end, picking up moving trucks and buying tons of food for all involved. So what the heck — let's canonize them, too! See, the thing is, they all do it without question. My sister mentioned to someone that she was going to help me move, and the someone said, "Oh, nice sister!" Sis just replied, "Well, that's what we do." And yes, I've done the same for them, and would do so again in a heartbeat, 'cause like the lady said, that's just what we do.

So there we were, various folks taking turns tending Grant, and others taking turns throwing my leftover stuff into boxes and bags and hauling it out to the truck. It was HOT out. I'm a fair-skinned gal normally, so when I exert myself I turn a lovely shade of pink, then red. It's a sight to behold. Add to that the fact that I hadn't showered, and I was looking and feeling like one helluva prize.

Grant was having a grand time walking around in the 16-foot moving truck and sitting in the cab to "drive" it. That kid loves anything with wheels. If you put wheels on a dog, fer goodness' sake, he'd be in ultra-heaven. Of course, at the end of a day full of excitement and upheaval, Grant heartily puked all over R.'s bed. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Finally we got everything packed, made final potty stops and got on the road, Bro driving his loaded pickup truck, Sis driving the moving truck and me driving my loaded car. Grant fell asleep soon after we got on the freeway, poor dear.

Traffic was terrible, as we'd sort of suspected it would be. Around 4:30 we arrived at the new place, where R. was waiting to help us unload. He'd come early to turn on the air conditioner inside, as well as set up a few things — he'd clearly been busy! When I walked up to the condo I saw R. had installed latticework all around the deck so Grant couldn't slip between the railings. Yay! That was a huge load off my mind. R. had also brought us a lovely potted cyclamen, as well as a couple of cards and notes welcoming us to our new home. He'd also put toilet paper and paper towels in the appropriate places, and set huge jugs of water and milk, as well as a million cans of Diet Coke, in the fridge to chill. Of course, all those things came in handy right away. ;-) He'd turned on some music in the garage and in the house, and I think he'd even burned/smudged a little sage to freshen the place a bit more. He was very excited that we were finally there, and I really appreciated R.'s welcoming gestures.

Lemme tell you, carrying stuff up the stairs was hard work. My face had only just returned to its normal color during the 100-mile drive down, and within minutes I was red as a big, sweaty tomato again. ;-) R. kept telling me to take a break, but I was bound and determined to get all the stuff moved into the house as quickly as possible so we could eat and relax, and so Bro could go on to some other plans he'd made for the evening. Once again, Grant played in the truck, and even helped bring some little things into the garage. He was so proud of himself for helping!

I had one meltdown when I'd had to request several times that everyone bring things into the house instead of leaving them in the garage. I didn't want to drive into the garage and see all my crap there, plus I wanted as much stuff as possible in the house while I had three extra pairs of arms to carry things up those stairs. After I burst into tears for about two minutes, I was fine and got right back to work.

At last we were finished unloading the truck. Bro took off for his friend's place, and R. took Grant with him on a food run. (Fried chicken! Somehow a very appropriate and welcome moving-day meal.) Sis and I cooled our heels a while. I'd worn closed-toe shoes for a change, and they were killing me, since I'd always hated them and had never broken them in properly. (My Tevas were packed.) As I was demonstrating the reclining couch for Sis, she surreptitiously placed a flat package on the piano. Oh? A present for moi? ;-)

She'd given me the score to "Annie." See, from the moment I knew I was going to live in a place with a piano, I'd had the words to "Maybe" stuck in my head. For anyone who's unfamiliar with the words to this song, here's a sample:

Maybe far away, or maybe real nearby,
he may be pouring her coffee,
she may be straight'ning his tie.

Maybe in a house, all hidden by a hill,
she's settin' playin' pi-aaaa-no,
he may be payin' a bill...

I'd sung the piece in high school choir, and it was the piano line that had somehow worked its way into my mind and parked there for the duration of the home-buying and moving experience. (My mind has a way of finding the perfect soundtrack for my life.) It was a very sweet gesture from Sis, which I really appreciated. And yes, I cleared a path to the piano, opened the book and played for a while...

As I mentioned, Grant had had a full day of excitement, so after the grownups ate and Grant nibbled, R. took Grant back to his place for the night, and I said I'd come along later. (R. is letting me use his place as a home base while I get sheets and towels and unpack enough to start living. Plus, the water heater pilot needs to be lit, and we had trouble with that last night.) Sis and I once again hung out at the house and explored a bit, then we decided to get going. She had a long drive ahead of her, having decided in advance not to spend the night in San Diego, and I wanted to get a shower with at least a smidgen of warm water. I called R. from the car and learned about Grant's exuberant barfing episode. Apparently he was fine — in extraordinarily wonderful spirits, actually — but the upheaval of the day had been a little much for him. R. was waiting patiently for me to arrive so he could launder the sheets and let the mattress dry out. (He'd already disinfected it.) Since Grant was still revved up, we weren't worried about his needing a place to crash anytime soon. I watched TV for a while, then Grant climbed up on my lap and eventually I stroked his hand (my usual trick) until he fell asleep.

At last I got my shower. Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh...bliss.

Today I've got freelance work to do, as well as one or two things at the new place. The bulk of the unpacking will have to wait until Monday or Tuesday, though.

Hey, there's plenty of time.

- Beth