jaeleslie

It was very interesting moving someone else's boxes into storage last night. All sympathy to the person whose boxes they were. Moving is not easy at best.

As replyhazy pointed out, it was rather more difficult than unloading the truck into an empty living space would have been, because not only was the truck packed quite full but the storage spaces had to be packed again too, like several simultaneous games of tetris. Fortunately they will not be moving and shaking on the back of a truck but just sitting quietly until someone comes for them again. I was glad that I was able to influence Mr S and Number One Son to come along to help with all that heavy lifting of book boxes; but I am rather concerned about that particular locker they packed being a bit precariously balanced for the next person to come along. With a stepladder, I would advise. I told them to remember they would be helping with that operation too if there is any justice I can offer.

It has got me looking around myself for likely boxes of my own that I can give the FlyLady treatment. (Do I love this? Do I use this, or need it? Do I ever want to lay hands or eyes on this again?) Remember, just one box at a time is quite sufficient. Slow and steady.

Putting everything you have been playing with into boxes to move and store is a peculiar modern experience. One hopes to open them up again on some Christmas morning of the future in a home of peace and serenity where everything will fit and be just what you wanted and find its best and highest use. This does not usually happen, in my experience. But one always must hope, maybe it will work this time. At least partly.