Chaos

The moving van came, a week earlier than they told me when we got here, a week later than they initially quoted at the beginning.

Some things were damaged -- a broken table leg, odd dishes here and there, a bent lamp frame, but all the glassware made it just fine and most everything is okay, except I can't find anything I need at the moment in all the chaos of boxes and paper.

The tall wardrobe box with hanging rod for my good clothes was useless. The unbendable heavy metal rod was twisted out of shape, so all the clothes spent their trip on the truck in a heap at the bottom of the box, tangled up with their hangers. I could have tossed them all in a plastic bag and saved the trouble.

It's nice to be in a real bed. Unpacking is hard work. There is so much stuff, which is unbelievable after ditching so much before we left. And here we are with too much stuff once more.

We'll get it sorted out. Here's my main support in all of this, taking a recliner break. He has been a rock, powering through his back pain to haul boxes and hook up electronics and assemble stuff and move furniture to the right spot, and cut up cardboard and then do more of it again.

Boy, is unpacking chaotic and tiring. I'm pooped.