Packing

Chris and Jenna came last weekend and started the work both Saturday and Sunday. Chris was tired of getting bruised by my "attack bed", which has wicked-bad projections on the foot-board that seem made to kill your thighs. I've been beaten black and blue by that bed, and so have Chris and Jenna. So she wrapped it in bubble wrap. Good solution. Here's a photo of the pile of yarn Jenna and I sorted to give away. I gave it to the Mid-Ohio Knitter's Guild people.



I thought we were maybe half-way through after that. We spent all of Saturday on beads and yarn, to give you an idea of how much work there was. Mom and Dad came Sunday and helped, too.




I had an extraordinary crew of packing helpers. I could never had made it through this move without their help, especially without spending way more than my relocation money from TMC would allow.

This weekend, Susan Paxton, Drew and Jess packed all day Saturday until they finally put me to bed. Literally, all of them in my bedroom talking about the remaining work while I lay there with my big pillows. We had not been half way done. Maybe a quarter or a third. It was scary. Could we finish in time? I had made the insane move of booking a flight to Los Angeles to see Rod My Love, leaving Monday morning. But the price was great! And I wasn’t thinking straight. Twitter-pated, as my brother Charlie called me. But the packing? I had planned to have it completed by then so that Drew and Charlie would “only” have to load the truck, not pack, later in the week. Would we make it?

Sunday the 18th, my friend Kay came right after church, in spite of having company that morning and expecting them back for dinner in the evening. At lunchtime, Erica came with loads of packing material and packing tape and went into Cyclone Mode, finding us cleaning out the frig and making a meal from assorted frozen dinners. She went ape on the spare room, and that was just what it needed. I had just brought it to the point of some organization so it was ready for boxing. But I had to hit the bed again, and feared I wasn’t getting up any more that day. But I got a second wind and continued helping Drew in the garage, in my double pants and chenille-wrapped head, and helping everyone with packing all over everywhere.

Jessica sat on her butt in the middle of my living room floor and bubble-wrapped glassware for two solid days. The girl worked her heart out for me, and I am so touched to think that she would do so much for me when I have known her for such a short time. I never imagined that I could love my son’s wife like I already love her. She is a true gem.

Highlight:

Drew told Jessica, “None of your lip, Bubble Bitch!” There was stunned silence, with Erica and I a half beat behind as we jabbered away in the spare room. Then we all burst out laughing. Did he really say that? Yes, he did. Drew said later that he thought Erica and Kay thought for a second that he was seriously trash-talking his fiancé. No. They just think that’s funny. And it was. “Bubble Bitch”. The photo shows the dear girl working away, for once not on the living room carpet, but instead on the cold hard tile of the entryway.