It’s all gone a bit dark in the land of the hedgehog. The primary reason is where we used to have windows, we now have boxes. The same can be said of the floor. And the stairs. And any flat surface not currently occupied by plant, animal or small child. There is some universal – yet baffling – scientific law that proves the boxing of items quadruples the volume of space they take. For example, a smallish bookcase can easily overwhelm a brace of boxes that appear to have fallen off a container ship.
And yet in a confusing reversal, an entire bed can be reduced to 14 matchsticks and a few pocket screws. The process is complicated by a goodly portion of our belongings being shipped to a house we’re not allowed to live in, while the remainder shall be delivered to the big log – assuming the removal truck can navigate the tiny entry road.
There is – I’m prepared to admit – some latitude for things to go very badly wrong. Legions of unwanted boxes containing ten years of kleptomania could quickly overspill the log, while useful stuff such as underwear and bikes are dispatched to who knows where. The bikes are a problem all on their own, there is seditious talk of a two bike quota being rigourously enforced with the remaining *ahem* four being quarantined in a no-go-Al-Zone.
This was obviously distressing to me: “Take a leg woman, a leg I say. Not a bike, no I can’t be without them“. Considering the plethora of locks and shackles returning home from far flung commuting stops, I could simply chain myself to the bloody lot and demand satisfaction. Except, I suspect, Carol would just leave me there looking rather silly*
So while the house is an obstacle course policed by hard edged boxes ensuring nightime navigation is a painful experience, the barn is as yet untouched. Two reasons; firstly I am desperately clinging onto any riding collateral before we move and secondly there was a slight issue with my attempts at packing. After Carol had packed 50 boxes, I rolled up my sleeves and pitched in with a big 2.
2 not adhering to a packing protocol in which the phrase “flip drawer over and shovel in” is curiously absent. On completion of a repack, her attempts to shift them was stymied by the contents vigorously falling out in line with the laws of gravity. Because – in line with the laws of stupidity – I had forgotten to tape up the underside. Easy mistake – anyone could have made it but because it was me, I am reduced to grumpily pointing at stuff and accepting it is unlikely It will ever be seen again.
It was almost as if I had planned it that way, I hear you thinking. Nasty, suspicious minds you have there 🙂
* Which would be even sillier than I am now. So really quite silly indeed.