Sorry for using that much derised George Bush declaration. But in this case it fits. We moved in yesterday, Saturday, October 16th, 2004. It was the Move From Hell.Ten hours it took...I've never seen four human beings work as hard as the guys who took our stuff of 28 years, pile it into their truck and move it 7 miles from West End Avenue in Manhattan Beach to Underhill Avenue in Prospect Heights.
May as well have moved it around the world for the vast differences in those two neighborhoods. More of that in future blogs.
Just suffice it to say that I'm very tired. I don't think I've ever felt this beat up - physically. My right knee is swollen with fluid. I can't bend it or kneel on it. My lower back is sore. Haven't been to the gym in weeks. Nor have I ridden my bike. I miss that so much but the act of moving is so demanding on time and energy - we've focused on nothing but the move for the last month. The pressure was intense - the deadline was Friday the 15th but the forecast was for heavy rain so we prevailed on the mover to move it up to Saturday. Still - it never seemed to end. The more we packed into boxes, the more depressed and agitated I became. There was always more. And, of course, the other question was: where the hell are we going to put all this stuff. (More on that also in a later Blog).
So. It was a terrible experience that people shoudl try to avoid at all costs. Why do we accumulate so much stuff? That's really the question to be answered. The corollary is: Why can't we part with it more easily? The theory should be, I believe: if you haven't touched it or laid eyes on it in many years, then, for all intents, it don't exist - bye, bye! But no! That resulting contradiction led to lots of tension and arguments between my wife and me.
But now it's over. And we're here. And we survived. I think. It'll be several months before this lovely apartment in an old Brooklyn brownstone on a great Brooklyn street takes shape. But that will come and there's no horrible time constraint as there was before the move. I just can't wait to dig into my new neighborhood - which is just where I want to be: it's great here -- diverse, tree-lined, low-rise, great old buildings, the great Park, the library, the museum, the restaurants...yes, the restaurants. The other night we sauntered around the corner to Vanderbilt Avenue and had Indian food - couldn't do that in Manhattan Beach. We wanted to try the very sweet Italian restaurant that was next door but it was Friday night and the line was out the door. Next time.
I think I'm gonna like this very much. Time will tell. But right now time is telling me to get into bed and get some needed rest. Tomorrow we close on the sale of our old house and a large part of our lives will begin to fade away. The new chapter starts now.
Moving day and our old house is bare walls and lots and lots and lots of boxes...ready to go.
A poster of Dani at a very young age stands forlornly, waiting to be moved to the new apartment. What to do with all those pictures?
Moving van is here. Goodbye old house of 26 years. My parents' house (sold in April) stands overgrown on right.
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