It’s slow, but I am making some progress in the
settling-in process.
The bedroom, four of the closets and one of the bathrooms
are organized. The kitchen cupboards are populated and I’ve even got my good
china out of the carton it’s been living in for the past six years.
Unaccountably I’m down to two champagne glasses, which I
don’t get. Leaving aside my recollection of having several crystal flutes packed
away with the good china, the fact is that I had three of them throughout my
sojourn in the Valley They Call Silicon, so I don’t understand how I can be
down one.
So far I’ve not been positively impressed with Allied Van
Lines. It’s not that things never happen, and you have to expect that some
things are going to be damaged. However, the professional thing would be to
point out the ones you know for a fact are so—because somewhere along the way
you or your colleagues attempted to tape over the gouges in the wood. This did
not happen.
So I’ll have to see how they respond to me pointing this
out.
(Ditto the man who packed my kitchen stuff. Not once in
more than twenty years of being moved by professionals have I ever seen a
packer who laid glasses and dishes on their sides instead of on their ends.
Until now. When one of my favorite plates was smashed.)
Still—I’m grateful that I’m once again surrounded by my
own furniture, crystal, clothes and miscellanea.
And when I can once again walk across the office floor to
choose a book, I’ll be really, really happy.
That’ll be a while, though.
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