Thunder / Flash / Advil

Well, we moved. Nights one and two logged at the new joint, it was EPIC. For starters, had we not the Mighty in-laws, we'd have been toast. The exodus started 7AM Saturday, and the last box from 179 was delivered to 88 India about 9:30PM last night (I did Tom Sawyer HH into a little pizza bait and switch for the final push to sum).

I feel like someone used me to test out their new bear beating / riot supression stick. Back, feet, hips, hands = playdoh. Too beat for a witty recap, very pleased to report the commute this morning went off without hitch.

Mrs. Beaver, bless her heart, still at the new digs, unpacking boxes and deciphering my serious box labels (here's one, "skull + patches")

Pictures tell the story better than I, here goes. This is the new place, pre-arrival of 12 years of crap:

Seemed roomy at this juncture. Geometry is a cruel science. Here's Mrs. Beaver at 179, when this project still appeared manageable.


Here's Mr. Beaver, snapped about the same time, beaming with optimism.

Now, we did hire movers. They are called the WONGS, and they tend to hoist 4-5 100lb. boxes on their backs, while smoking, and mule them down stairs. They aren't insured of course, so no worries when it comes to the valuables.

Exterior of 179, slated for demo wethinks:


Here's a WONG, pleased I'm wielding a camera and not my work gloves. Top two boxes are gold d'blooms of course:

Our landlord was kind enough to pop by so we could use the freight elevator. His name is IVAN, and he is dangerous with a handtruck. That's a 25LB. country ham in the baby basket:

Here's the Beav, taking five in a nearly empty 179. That yoga ball didn't make the trip, neither did the couch.

The end of an era, 12 years nearly. Place looks small without my shoes and collections. No better way to cull your shizz than when faced with moving it. Had to part with the tire iron display, spare railroad stakes, pennies from the mid century, wire rims, windshield cleaner, beach chairs, cinderblock art, health insurance evidence from '94 - '98, etc.



Here it is, the new digs, truck trip one:

Truck trip two:

Pretty obvious, no room to walk even. We figure we downsized 30% in square footage, yet tossed only 10% of our possessions. The altar, the most valuable thing we own, didn't make the turn at the top of the stairs. If anyone needs a nine and a half foot long, 18th century piece of Chinese history, leave comment.


Thanks again to HH for the vittles Saturday night, and to the elder Beavers / McKennas for the extra hands before and after.

Next missive will be realized from the new address, likely from traction.

YAOS!

A + W