It's the Little Things
Well, folks, it's August. That means I can no longer say, "Next month, we'll be living in Russia." Because THIS month, we'll be living in Russia. Aaaiiiiieeeeee!
Today the pre-mover moving people are coming by to get a feel for how many boxes/packers/straightjackets they'll need to pack us out in a couple of weeks. I *think* I know what's coming and what's going in storage, at least as far as the big stuff goes.
But I still have to make decisions about all the little stuff, and unfortunately, there's a lot of little stuff. I managed to curb my terrible habit of collecting small, useless objects over the course of the last ten years, but there are holdovers. You know, my collection of tiny glass animals...the ironstone pitchers I used to amass...the Limoge box assortment that my parents have given me over the years. I love all these things, but do I want to move them to Russia? I haven't committed yet, and I'm rapidly running out of time.
Then there are the books. Oh, the books. I love books (duh) but I don't necessarily need my Complete Jane Austen collection, do I? Are you crazy? Of course I do! John, however, does not need his college text books with their yellow "used" stickers still holding fast to the spines. Of this I am certain.
It's hard to make some of these decisions. On the one hand, I love the idea of streamlining, of keeping things simple over the next two years. On the other hand, our apartment isn't going to have our furniture in it, and it's probably not the domicile I would have chosen if I had my druthers. All the little stuff will be the only source of charm in the place. And if seeing my Limoge piggies smiling down on me from a curio cabinet makes me happy, then maybe it's worth hauling them across the planet. I'm just not sure!
In the meantime, John is building up a wall of "vital" supplies on our sun porch. You know, eighteen-pound sacks of pizza flour, crates full of sustainably caught sardines, chia seeds by the barrel. I've already told him that if our kitchen can't accommodate his pre-apocalypse-level hoarding, it's going in HIS half of the closet.
The greyhound figurine, on the other hand, should fit nicely in the front hall.
Today the pre-mover moving people are coming by to get a feel for how many boxes/packers/straightjackets they'll need to pack us out in a couple of weeks. I *think* I know what's coming and what's going in storage, at least as far as the big stuff goes.
But I still have to make decisions about all the little stuff, and unfortunately, there's a lot of little stuff. I managed to curb my terrible habit of collecting small, useless objects over the course of the last ten years, but there are holdovers. You know, my collection of tiny glass animals...the ironstone pitchers I used to amass...the Limoge box assortment that my parents have given me over the years. I love all these things, but do I want to move them to Russia? I haven't committed yet, and I'm rapidly running out of time.
Then there are the books. Oh, the books. I love books (duh) but I don't necessarily need my Complete Jane Austen collection, do I? Are you crazy? Of course I do! John, however, does not need his college text books with their yellow "used" stickers still holding fast to the spines. Of this I am certain.
It's hard to make some of these decisions. On the one hand, I love the idea of streamlining, of keeping things simple over the next two years. On the other hand, our apartment isn't going to have our furniture in it, and it's probably not the domicile I would have chosen if I had my druthers. All the little stuff will be the only source of charm in the place. And if seeing my Limoge piggies smiling down on me from a curio cabinet makes me happy, then maybe it's worth hauling them across the planet. I'm just not sure!
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| Look, they're reading! Who doesn't love reading pigs? |
In the meantime, John is building up a wall of "vital" supplies on our sun porch. You know, eighteen-pound sacks of pizza flour, crates full of sustainably caught sardines, chia seeds by the barrel. I've already told him that if our kitchen can't accommodate his pre-apocalypse-level hoarding, it's going in HIS half of the closet.
The greyhound figurine, on the other hand, should fit nicely in the front hall.
Haha, I hear ya on the books. Jim and I recently purged our book collection of all the "used" books we had from college, along with dozens of others. Did I really need to lug around my math textbook from freshman year through 3 different apartments? Definitely not, and it felt good to declutter. It's always hard to part with the classics, but let's face it, I'm kidding myself if I think I'm ever going to pick up the Aeneid ever again. Good luck with the rest of your packing (definitely bring the pigs!)
ReplyDeleteUm, the math textbook DEFINITELY would have gotten the boot from me a long time ago! Ha! Can't wait to see you guys this weekend!!
DeleteI can't even imagine having to make such a huge move! I have a hard time getting rid of things, so I would not be helpful here. Good luck!
ReplyDeleteHi! I love reading your blogs. Re: the books--I say take the ones that will make your house feel like your home. My husband and I plan on taking ours when we move (to a still unknown location). And the reading pigs? Definitely keep those! Good luck :)
ReplyDeleteHi! Just checked out your blog too! Can't wait to hear where you guys are going!
DeleteGreat post - lol'd quite a bit :)
ReplyDeleteAs far as advice goes...you've seen my apartment. Best not to ask me.
I'll ask you for advice when I discover our 1900 square foot apartment is actually 900 square feet. :P
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