We’re moving and almost done.

Not very far, just about 12 miles down the road to a bigger town, and oh my God what a hassle!

They say moving is almost as stressful as a divorce. Now add the fact the ex came down to help the kids move their stuff and it’s right up there stress-wise.

We started by moving a car load at a time, twice a day so we could get the new house semi-organized as we moved. An option moving farther doesn’t give you. If you do it in one moving van load you have chaos at the other end. This way you only have clutter.

After three weeks of this I rented a truck, which we mostly used to haul away old furniture to the dump.

This of course reveals the unsightly filth that lies hidden under couches, beds, etc. It’s getting harder to force myself to go back to the old house for all the small stuff that needs to be boxed and brought over and by the way how the heck can you move from a smaller house to a bigger house and still feel like your stuff won’t fit?

It seems like it would take quantum mechanics to explain this.

But we have to keep up the effort, though the fatigue is setting in big time. We can’t take a day off because we’d lose momentum and we really need to get the old place cleared out so we can hire a cleaning service and put it on the market.

So I told the kids we move something every day even if it’s only a token amount.

It’s strange to think I now own three pieces of real estate, counting the apartment in Poland. I guess that makes me a member of the exploiting capitalist landlord class.

The heavy stuff is mostly moved, with the help of a friend. This is not as good as it sounds. A concentrated burst of effort and the bookshelves, tables, desks etc. are moved and in place. But all the little stuff that has to be picked up, packed and unpacked is incredible tedium.

Got some new furniture to put it all in, and for this I will always be grateful to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore.

So why won’t all my clothes fit in the new (to me) chest of drawers?

It’s bigger than my old one!

I’m thinking of buying a piece or two of new furniture since this will likely be our home for a long time to come.

And my God have you checked the price of new furniture lately?

But we love our new house. It’s bigger and it’s got class. The neighborhood is nice with lots of distinctive houses. No cookie cutter suburban development this!

And it has sidewalks. Our old place wasn’t a “walking town” and didn’t have sidewalks everywhere. Nor was it really big enough to go bicycling.

The dog seems to love the house, buuuuuut since it was previously occupied by two dogs she just had to sign the deed of new ownership – if you get my drift.

Oddly, she hasn’t warmed to the new yard and goes out only reluctantly.

Because we love this new place we count a series of firsts. First night sleeping in the new place, first baths taken, first meals cooked. And now the kitchen is in operation and the fridge stocked a number of local restaurants are going to notice a drop in income.

So one last burst of effort and we’re done. Then I’m going to sleep for a week!

— Steve Browne is a longtime reporter and contributor to the Marshall Independent