First, the good news: Last week’s record rainfall did NOT do any significant damage to the mansion. Had it occurred a week earlier, when the driveway was freshly paved, I would not be saying that.
Dawn, however, did not sleep for three days. When you’re sleeping in a greenhouse with a plastic roof, heavy rain sounds like bombs exploding. So it was with a weary head and cranky attitude that she arrived in LA last Wednesday, ready to sort through all of our belongings which I had haphazardly boxed and stored in the garage.
Four days of bickering later, and we were ready for the movers. Well, perhaps “ready” isn’t the right term. We finally went to bed around 4am last night, and they showed up this morning at 7am. We had already packed the doorbell, so it was some time before they woke us up. The driver had everyone moving like it was choreographed, except for me; I was stumbling around and thinking it’s days like this that I wish I drank coffee.
I had to go get more boxes (we’ve now invested at least $400 in carboard — I don’t know how homeless people do it) and while they were hauling out the furniture, we packed at least another ten boxes. At that point, paperclips were being packed, because it was easier than throwing them out. At about 80 cents per pound to ship, however, I’m going to be pretty annoyed with myself when I’m unpacking.
Now everything is out of the house. (The front lawn is another matter, but the Salvation Army will deal with that on Wednesday.) Tomorrow morning Dawn boards a plane back to Philadelphia, so she can get back in time for the electricians, while I start my trek back east.