It's a Moving and Grooving MMP!

I’m packing up my worldly possessions this week. On Saturday, a crew of hopefully fit and well hydrated folk will appear and load my gear into a truck. It will then disappear into storage for about 6 weeks while we wait to take possession of our house.

We’re moving from the Bay Area to Albany Oregon. I’m very excited and really, really looking forward to (hopefully) not moving again for a good long while. This will be our 4th move in 9 years (CA to OR to MO to CA to OR). I’m done.

How about the rest of you? Any fun moving stories to share? Do you like moving around a lot or are you happy in your nest?

As always, feel free to hijack.

Was it not Mark Twain who said “Two moves equals one remove?”

Second!

Morning mumpers! It’s all bright and shiny over here today which is a nice change from the 'orrible damp weather we’ve been having recently. I’ve taken my car to the garage for a service and MoT, and top of the list of requirements is a new tyre as I had a blow-out on the motorway yesterday morning on my way over to mum’s. That was an eventful start to the day. Hopefully they will be able to finish the job today and I’ll be able to leave early and collect it back again on the way home.

Moving house…I like the idea but not the practicality! I moved a couple of times as a kid, then had a couple of rented houses/shares and then my last move was to the Glorious People’s Republic of the Wet Midlands about 15 years ago. Of course, after the vote last week, 'im indoors is considering a move up north to the probably-soon-to-be-independent Scotland. He’s Scottish anyway, and seriously thinks the UK is now a sinking ship. I don’t share his pessimism, might be a rough ride for a while but I think England and Wales together have the ability to create something new and exciting. After all, we have to make the best of things, don’t we?

I’m thinking of moving again…

This job’s boredom is so big that it’s having a negative impact in other parts of my life, so I’ve decided that I will wrap up some personal stuff that will be done more easily if I happen to be in Spain and relatively close (4h away by car), and then unless things have gotten better on the job side I’ll hang up the “available” shingle again. This time, with the advantage that I’ll be able to go on getting paid while I get something that looks good.

If it wasn’t for the utter and complete boredom with attached brainfry, I’d be perfectly happy to stay in this particular location. Apparently Valladolid folks have a reputation with their neighbors of being unwelcoming, but compared with my mountain folk back home they could pass as workers for the Tourist Office.

Looks like I won’t be moving to Australia or Canada. The next months are going to involve a lot of bitching, but the electoral results boiled down to “lots of people who aren’t very happy with ‘their side’ bothered vote just to keep ‘those guys’ from winning”, where ‘their side’ is actually the two biggest ones (PP&allies, PSOE) and ‘those guys’ are the jackbooted populist and his followers.

I hate moving, and I hate packing more. I’d moved into my house in 1994 having packed up my old house (in which no one was living at that point), my apartment, and my dad’s apartment. It took about a month to get completely settled, especially because my dad was physically unable to help, and I was fighting off bronchitis and losing. But those were the days before arthritis, so I toughed it out. Dad passed away three years later, and after another 8 years, I finally spent the dough to pretty up his downstairs quarters and rent it out. I had two tenants, the first of whom was never home, so that was good; the second of whom was the one I’ve referred to as World’s Best Tenant. But after his circumstances necessitated his leaving, I didn’t rent to anyone else.
When I was financially forced to sell the house, after 18+ years, I moved to an area of LI that didn’t feel like home. A year later, I moved here, and this feels much more like home, since it is only a couple of miles away from the house.
Now I have to move off LI and the only good thing I can say about it is that the rent will be low enough that once I get my SSDI monthly money, I’ll be able to save enough to come back to LI. Three years, tops.
When I left the house in 2013, I still had boxes as yet unpacked from the move in. Many of those I just trashed without opening because I knew I wouldn’t have room for them. Absolutely no fucking idea what was in them. I’d figured if I hadn’t missed or needed the contents in 18 years, I’d be fine without them altogether. (the family heirloom things had been the first box unpacked, so I know where all of those are) I still have boxes as yet unpacked from the move out in 2013, but I’ve going through them, little by little. I thought this would be my last place ever. Go know!

Last night I dreamed my apartment was infested with kittens. And I didn’t mind. Smokey wasn’t happy because she had to share everything, but there was a lot of purring from the kittens so she adjusted. When I opened my eyes briefly around 3am, I saw that Smokey had cuddled up right next to my head and was purring, until she saw me eyes open, then she started singing me the song of her people.

blurf

For all intensive porpoises :wink: we didn’t move when I was a kid… Technically, I did in that I was born in San Diego, and a month later, we drove to Baltimore to live with my Dad’s folks, and when I was 2, my folks bought the house where I grew up. I lived there 17 years, then joined the Navy, which led to a lot of moves, but I don’t think those count.

My last duty station was in Jacksonville, FL, and that’s where spousal unit and I met and married. In the first 7 years of our marriage, we had 5 different addresses - the little house I had bought, the house on Lake Asbury that we bought together, our boat, the house in Middleburg, then the second house on Lake Asbury. We stayed in the second house for 7 years, then moved to Virginia, stayed there 3 years, back to FL for 4 years, then to where we are now (pausing for a few months to live on the boat again.) As far as I’m concerned, this house is it until we’re unable to care for it any longer. We’ve been here 12 years come the end of July - the longest we’ve ever lived in one place. It’s just not fun any more - moving, that is.

So, it’s Moanday, and I had another crappy night. I even went to bed with Mel and I was asleep before 9, and wide awake at 2. Dammit. I did drift off some time before 4, only to be jolted away by the alarm at 5. Not happy. Not at all.

Boss man comes back today. Talking to FCD, I found out he’s very much disliked in this company and him dating his underling was not particularly liked, but there was no company rule against it, so there ya go. I can see why he’s disliked - he’s a lousy boss, and I don’t think he’s much of an engineer. I’ve had to update some of the drawings he did 7 and 8 years ago - I’d call him a mediocre designer at best. But I can put up with it because I can leave any time I want. In fact, I could go back to the place I worked before this - the one who couldn’t keep me busy. So there’s that.

However, I’m here today, so I should get my brain in gear.

Happy Moanday!

I maintain moving is fun when you can fit all your worldly possessions into the back seat of a '73 Ford Pinto. Now that a move involves a large fraction of the semi trailer, the level of suck has increased exponentially.

I would love to get my possessions down to the point I could move in a larger U-Haul truck, but VWife does not share that vision.

Is it quit o’clock yet?

Up, caffeinated, and sheveled. Closing shift today. I moved a couple of times as a kid, but I was in Durham, NC from age 8 to 18. I’ve only moved once in the last 15 years, but tat was a nightmare(moving gradually over 2 months, without help, while working a 70 hour week.)

I hate moving. Always have, always will.

My last move from the Stately Manor to the Stately Turret taught me one thing: I am closer to 40 than I am to 20 and therefore the next time I move I will have a couple of Strong Young Men ™ help me carry furniture up and down the stairs. I can’t do that alone anymore.

Still have the headache I got last Wednesday. :frowning:

blurf I can’t imagine having to move. I know we have entirely too much stuff.

At irk. I had a dizzy spell on the way to irk. Thought I would have to pull over and call someone. But it passed. Turns out the antibiotics I am taking has a side effect of dizziness. I only have about three more days of it.

Our one move together was only three blocks and we were younger than so we basically got some friends from the Living History thing to help us ----- and several arrived in colonial dress. Our new neighbors first impression of us was formed by some guy in buckskins carrying our stove on his back (with straps - it didn’t fit in any of our cars) and several people throwing tomahawks at a wooden block during a break. Not the average sort of thing you see in the inner city. But it did get us left alone pretty much for the first several years.

Up and returning to work today. This gets into a sort of mini-peak period for us so I expect I’m walking into a hot mess. But its Hawaiian Shirt today and I have my coconut bra ready so I hope to have some fun with it. I am wearing the bra over a shirt ------ just to be safe. I work with some very strange people.

FROM LAST WEEK

What? Just Doggio? Harumph!

Why do you think I have been thinning thigs out(apart form the fact that ridding myself of unused possessions is cathartic)

You’re losing your touch. :wink:

Strong Old Dudes with Little Carts work just as well. The two guys who did my last move had this thing which was just a plank with four little wheels, but they could use it to manhandle any piece of furniture down three flights of stairs with very little effort.

ruble, I can hate you if it makes you feel better, but could I at least get some sort of excuse?

I lived in the same house from birth to age 21 (when my parents sold it). After college I moved to DC, spent 5 years there, moved to Minneapolis (11 months, God I hated it), then back to Illinois. I’ve lived in my current crib for 11 years and I love it. My next move will be to wherever I decide to retire. I am kinda purging now–every so often I think “what if I had to move quickly and take all this stuff?” I would shove me, kitteh Ursala, and my stuffed animals in the car and go.

Other than that, today is the last day of the heat wave. Supposedly. Yesterday was 90 with humidity to match. Had my riding lesson and my face was beet red after I dismounted. Puttered around the barn, did a scenic drive home for the a/c, took a shower, and my face was still red. Took a couple hours to cool down completely.

The implication being that you’re not a strange person?? :dubious:

Full agreement on hiring pros to do the move, altho that doesn’t always work. In the various professional moves we’ve experienced, my piano sustained several ugly gouges, a TV antenna was broken off, a large piece of pottery was broken, at least one box lost, and several lamp shades were crushed. There was no excuse for any of the damage - it was all stupidity - like who packs pottery without wrapping it well to cushion it??? And who crams pillows into a lamp shade than shoves it into a box?? The idiots we had, that’s who…

Back to work. boring…

I moved in December. I hate the act of moving but I love getting rid of stuff, being in a new place, etc. We are in a larger house, now, but December was extremely stressful this year:

November 27th: we signed the lease and started moving smaller stuff, etc., that Thanksgiving weekend. We spent the next ten days taking at least one-two trips over a day.
December 7th: I flew out to Atlanta for a training trip.
December 10th: My husband joined me in Atlanta so we could spend the weekend together.
December 13th: We returned from Atlanta around midnight and did not get to bed until 2 am.
December 14th: Moving day. Damn movers were late, but they got over there and got all of our stuff to the new place. That was the first official night we slept in the new place.
December 24th: went to the inlaws for Christmas
December 27th: returned

By the time January came we were beat!

I can’t move. I built a garage that I could never leave behind or replace realistically. Stuck on my alkali flat, I guess.

Oh, and I have moved so many times in my life. Sometimes I am a little envious of people who say “I lived in one place all my life” - my husband did that, until college. I counted once, we moved sixteen times before I was 18, and that doesn’t count emigrating to this country. And I’ve probably moved ten or so times since I became an adult.

Admittedly, it has given me a sense of adaptability and I am very good with change. And most of the time I like my history. It’s just sometimes - I live in a place where seemingly everyone has been here since the cradle, so sometimes I feel a little left out.