Last week you read our moving adventure from Cutest’s point of view. Well, as Mr. Harvey used to say, “And now for the rest of the story.” Cutest and I had lived in the same condo building in Kansas City for four years. One evening over late night cocktails, we had a joint brainstorm…why not live together! We would share living expenses, I could enjoy more of Cutest’s delicious dinners, and Cutest could take advantage of my 6’4” height for storing and retrieving items on shelving more than five and a half feet off the ground. There were some other considerations but I won't share those.
Quickly, maybe too quickly, in November we located a new-to-us condo that suited our needs. By mid-December, my junk, as Cutest refers to it, was sitting in the new condo, still in boxes. Wanting to escape the January KC winter, we fled to Key West for the month, as you know. Great planning thought we. Get away from the gray skies and cold temperatures and the paint fumes, new carpet effluvium, and the dust of the kitchen remodel.
Unfortunately, the harshest part of winter awaited our return, as did a mountain of Cutest’s things. All furniture and the floor was the recipient of giant logjam of moving boxes. The tasks ahead of us looked daunting.
The condo was new to us, but not new. We surmised the last major renovation occurred when disco boots and balls were in vogue. Tan walls, dirty tan carpet, aging plumbing and electrical systems were all subject to either replacement or refreshing.
We each sorted through the debris, trying to decide what to keep. Often an item would bring back a fond memory of family, friends or vacations, however usually those things had not been seen in a quarter of a century or more, so the time had come for their removal. We sorted items into Goodwill, recycle or trash boxes. The gentleman at Goodwill and I are now on a first name friendship.
Today it’s late February, and since forever the temperature has risen above freezing and the sun stays out all day. The remodeled kitchen is 90% complete. Lights turn on without breakers sparking and drains drain. We can see the hardwood floors, we can sit on most of the furniture, and we can remember where 60% of the things we put away are located. We still own one couch too many.
Moving is a strong test of any relationship. An occasional bottle of wine shared with your partner while reassuring her that this, too, will pass, does wonders. We've passed the test.
So far. :)
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