|Chez Clutterbuck-Cook 2.0|
We’ve reached the “where did all these damn books come from?!” stage of packing/moving. It’s not like we didn’t know we had approximately one thousand books (not to mention serials and DVDs…) in our 535-square-foot apartment. But books shelved actually take up comparatively little space, all neatly lined up along the wall. Books in boxes, on the other hand, seem to pile up alarmingly quickly. We’ve boxed about 50 records center-sized plastic bins so far, and once Hanna unpacks a couple dozen this afternoon in our new home, I’ll be trekking them back across town to fill them with more.
The movers come tomorrow to deal with the furniture (bookcases … and essentials, like, you know, the bed).
Teazle continues spreading her sunny, exploratory nature everywhere. Last night while I was boxing up books from the bedroom closet (yes, we kept books in the bedroom closet), I kept turning around to find Teazle sitting jauntily in the box, whether empty, partially, or almost entirely full. Once it was filled, she climbed on top of it.
And then, when that job was done, there were the cleared shelves to scramble up upon and inspect.
Geraldine, meanwhile, has taken to huddling in our vicinity where she can keep an eye on the proceedings and emit misery vibes.
Today is the day we move them from old to new home, letting them get used to the space for a day before we have to contend with the chaos of movers. Hanna’s going to set herself up as unpacker-and-cat-wrangler-in-chief this afternoon while I drive all of the oddly-shaped boxes and bins back and forth from Allston to Jamaica Plain (and the empty bins back for more packing). I anticipate one night of separate sleeping as Hanna co-sleeps with the kitties in our new home and I crash at our soon-to-be-old home to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the movers at 9am tomorrow.
Coffee. It will be our friend.
Photos to come.