Making my way through the canyons of cardboard, I went upstairs. Looking into the master bedroom, I saw the bed had been set up with the frame and box springs. Next, I walked into the second bedroom. There was the bed - as in just the 4 poster bed - no mattress, no Box Spring. Thinking about what we loaded, it dawned on me that I was so concerned about getting the correct box spring for my bed, sofa for the living room, and matching kitchen chairs, that I totally forgot I needed a mattress and box spring for the other bed. And, to think I had been so proud of both my preparation and my execution of the move.
Later that afternoon, the Fed Ex man showed up with a 50 pound box containing my memory foam mattress. I saw him drop it on the Door step. He turned to go back to his truck. Wanting to catch him, I ran to the door and asked, "Can you please bring that into the house?"
He turned around, "No mam, we're not allowed to bring anything into someones home."
Obviously, he could tell that was not the answer I expected. He walked back toward the door and smiled," But, if you open the door, I will put it inside."
I thanked him and opened the door wide. He picked up the box, and without putting a foot over the threshold, placed it just inside the door. I thanked him. Now getting it up the stairs and onto the bed was going to be another story.
One of my favorite pieces of furniture is a large buffet which I have always had in my living room. Unfortunately, 2 of the legs had been broken during a previous move. Until they get repaired, the buffet had to be set on the floor in my living room, upside down. If nothing else, it makes for a conversation piece. Especially with my television sitting on top of it (or on the bottom of it) together with my crystal decanters.
I'm not sure who built the building in the 1940's but I am convinced he (or she) had to be at least 6' 8" tall. Working in the kitchen, I found I could barely reach the kitchen cabinets, much less anything inside. Even at 5' 2", I had never had that problem before. Note to self - I need a step stool.
In the master bedroom there was a nice size closet. However, when trying to hang up some of my clothes, I could not reach one of the hanging bars. Once again, I made a note - I need a stool.
I spent the next few hours unpacking and putting things in their proper places. There was great satisfaction with each box I emptied. But, the number of boxes never seemed to decrease. This was worse than the Tribbles on Star Trek.
On the edge of exhaustion, I grabbed a glass of tea, moved a few items from the sofa, and took a seat. It was all coming together. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel or rather the living room floor. There was a noise outside which sounded like the mail being delivered. Sure enough, opening the door, I saw the mailman making his way down the walk way. I opened the door and reached to my left where the mailbox was mounted on the wall. Standing on my toes, I could barely open the box, much less reach inside for any mail that may be there. Note to self - I really need a stool.
I'm not sure who built the building in the 1940's but I am convinced he (or she) had to be at least 6' 8" tall. Working in the kitchen, I found I could barely reach the kitchen cabinets, much less anything inside. Even at 5' 2", I had never had that problem before. Note to self - I need a step stool.
In the master bedroom there was a nice size closet. However, when trying to hang up some of my clothes, I could not reach one of the hanging bars. Once again, I made a note - I need a stool.
I spent the next few hours unpacking and putting things in their proper places. There was great satisfaction with each box I emptied. But, the number of boxes never seemed to decrease. This was worse than the Tribbles on Star Trek.
On the edge of exhaustion, I grabbed a glass of tea, moved a few items from the sofa, and took a seat. It was all coming together. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel or rather the living room floor. There was a noise outside which sounded like the mail being delivered. Sure enough, opening the door, I saw the mailman making his way down the walk way. I opened the door and reached to my left where the mailbox was mounted on the wall. Standing on my toes, I could barely open the box, much less reach inside for any mail that may be there. Note to self - I really need a stool.
