Photos tomorrow… I promise(ish).
But for now, just a couple of questions to answer:
Em wanted to know about organizing. Oh, girl. Lemme tell ya. You remember I didn’t want to use boxes. Whatever. I got over that OCD tic and filled my car with boxes from BevMo. I managed to fit eleven (11!) boxes in, and then I got stuck on a new OCD tic (I swear, only when I’m moving am I this nutty). I didn’t want any more boxes. I was determined to move with just eleven (my fave number) boxes. Why? I dunno. It just sounded cool. “Yes, once I moved with only eleven boxes.” ‘Cause THAT will wow my friends and neighbors….
But what it translated to is that I would pack the boxes, move them to the new place, unpack them, and put everything away, all in order to take them back and fill them up again. So I am already unpacked and organized. Can you stand it? That’s the only way a nervous little cat like me can move. Last night, I really DID put my feet up on the table, sat on the sofa, watched TiVo, checked email, and knitted on Cromarty. I stayed up too late having that much fun.
And speaking of cats, La Brainy asked me how the cats were doing. They’re doing just fine, so Mom tells me. I took ’em home down south last Tuesday. They ADORE being at Grandma’s house, and I didn’t want them anywhere near the ripping apart of their home. They’re neurotic enough, and I’m usually balanced enough to calm them down. But a crazy me married with a move would have sent them right up the wallpaper, and there wouldn’t be enough tuna in the world to get ’em down. (Digit’s paw is healed now, no limp at all. Faker.)
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