The Land of Boxes

There are limits to being as giddy as a teenager when you're actually a silver-ager. One biggie is that moving ain't all that fun. In all honesty, it never was fun, but the younger me did it an awful lot. I used to joke that if the freezer needed defrosting or the oven needed cleaning, it was time to move.

I realize some of you may not be old enough to know what "defrosting the freezer" is all about, but trust me, moving can be a preferable activity.

Anyway, I don't have the jaunty who-cares spirit I had back in the day when three friends, a pick-up truck, and 100 trips up and down stairs was no big deal. I also can't stand the utter chaos that comes with emptying cabinets and packing boxes. Nothing's where it's supposed to be and everything's a big mess. I feel like a cross between a hobo and a hoarder.

When did we get so much stuff? And why? Geez, for each packing project I'm creating four separate piles: the pack-and-move pile, the give-it-to-the-kids pile, the give-it-to-Goodwill pile, and the dumpster pile. And I'm embarrassed to admit that we have a storage unit that still has boxes packed from previous moves and I'm having to UNpack all of those just to find out what's in them and which piles all that stuff belongs in. For a pretty frugal person who's reasonably concerned about the environment, I leave a pretty big carbon (junk) footprint.

For the time-being, I'm living in the land of boxes, bubble-wrap, newsprint, and packing tape. I'm living in the land of piles. I lost my sunglasses three days ago and found them this morning. On the counter. In the kitchen. Next to a pile that included a tray, a plate, and a silver pitcher. I can't tell if the kitchen is dirty or merely disordered. It doesn't smell, so that's a good sign.

Slowly, we are working our way toward organization. Several cabinets have been emptied and many boxes have been packed a labeled. We bought a small utility trailer and are carting what we can move on our own on weekend trips to the cabin. The big stuff is left for the professionals (because silver-agers don't tote the barge or lift the bale as well as their younger counterparts).

I expect to move in dribs and drabs till the big stuff goes, then settle happily into our new little cabin a good deal leaner and less encumbered. I relish the thought of greater simplicity -- fewer things to take care of. That's a big part of what this move from the city is all about.