Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Moving is God's way of punishing you for buying too much stuff. I am pretty sure that having to unpack glasses and dishes for eternity was one of the punishments mentioned in Dante's Inferno for people who repeatedly abused their Amex during their life.
And yes, we have returned to our punishment this week, tackling the remaining boxes piled high in the garage.
I am told that most people deal with moving house in a logical, orderly manner. They "de-clutter" their home prior to the sale, getting rid of things they can do without. Once the house is sold, they plan for the move by selling or giving away things they don't want to pay to have moved. The rest they leave on the curbside as a gift to those mythical creatures that make them disappear overnight.
The working motto for moving house is easy: If you're not sure, don't bring it with you. The reward for adopting that attitude? You don't have to pack and unpack that stuff. Not to mention that you don't have to pay to have it moved.
We, needless to say, did things a bit differently. If we weren't sure, we brought it with us. And we were quite liberal in applying the "not sure" criterion.
Even if we were 90 percent sure we wouldn't suddenly use that waffle maker we hadn't even opened in 15 years, we brought it with us. We brought the George Foreman Grilling Pan, still unopened after 10 years. Ditto the bike for Lily that I never got around to putting together and which she is now too big to ride. And the food slicer. And the pie maker.
(We did, however, pat ourselves on the back for getting rid of the darkroom equipment after recognizing it was extremely unlikely that we would ever be going back to using black-and-white film to take pictures.)
One of our goals in moving here was to simplify our lives. OK, "goal" may be too strong for the two of us - let's just say "vague expectation".
We knew we didn't need seven sets of dishes. But we brought them anyway. It turns out to be a good decision, I guess, as the picture at the top should make clear, for we are all set if we ever want to host a dinner party for 150 people. Or open a bar. Or decide not to wash glasses or dishes more than twice a year.
Yesterday I learned that we have more fry pans than burners to put them on. It's actually a ratio of about 4:1. We bought new ones to replace grotty old ones where the teflon had worn off. Yet we kept the old ones and brought them with us. We have two stove top grills (not to be confused with our three outdoor grills). We have two risotto pans. And much to LK's amazement, she discovered that she has a paella pan.
"Donald, I don't remember getting a paella pan," she said in amazement. Then after some thought, she added, "But it's good to have one. I like paella."
And on and on it went. I think even LK was a little embarrassed to discover not one but two "micro-colanders". These are teensy weensy colanders, the smallest of which measures 1/4 cup. To put it into perspective, two large olives would fill it up. So I guess we bought two of them in case we want to rinse off four olives at a time.
Anyhow, all of this has led us to an absolutely unpredictable point in our life. LK, a woman who has spent her life avoiding garage sales, has decided we are going to do one ourselves. More next time.