Notes from the West Coast

Here we are, the first week of 2017, and while the rest of the world (or at least the rest of my world) is cringing at the prospect of the inauguration, we are in not-so-sunny California, dealing with the middle third of our moving trifecta for this year. We are putting the west coast house in order. Which entails rugs and blinds and figuring out where to direct the avalanche of goods coming our way from the east. On Friday.

In this house, we currently have 5 gate-leg tables. Coming with the movers are two standard dining tables, each capable of seating 8 to 10 people. It is apparent from all this that we could hold a sit-down dinner for 40, without even breaking out a card table, or utilizing our kitchen island (which seats four.) We are currently deciding which of these tables will win a trip to our newly-acquired storage space. A difficult choice indeed.

Then there are rugs. We are blessed with hardwood floors throughout, and cursed with the necessity to cover them. One bedroom has carpeting; the living room has an Oriental rug. Which leaves us with the need to order three rugs-- and two runners for the hall. Macy’s January sales are our friend. As is Overstock.com. Of course the rug we want may be out of stock, which complicates the issue. But all will be well. I have faith. If not rugs.

The local movers (we have long since deemed ourselves too old to haul furniture on our own) arrive—on time! And with THREE guys and a truck, instead of the titular TWO. I had tagged most of the stuff to be stored, and they set to work. At the point when they were just about done loading, our yard people arrived, ready to discuss in detail their plans for improving the yard, which (of course) had to have our imprimatur before they could proceed. In the midst of which discussion I got a call from our friend the contractor back east who had kindly agreed to walk through the condo we are considering and render an opinion. As if three conversations at one time were not enough, the moving coordinator texted me at that point about the whereabouts of our truck, which had developed truck trouble in Texas (sounds like a new reality show..) At least the weather is nice.

I would be lying if I said this was all bad. I sort of like pushing furniture around, changing my environment, looking at things from a different perspective. There are always discoveries to be made, and a little shake-up now and then is good for the soul. The San Diego house was furnished piecemeal (as I remember, we opened up the door to our largest storage area and told the mover: take it all..) and now, we are trying to impose some order upon it and make it even more of a home, rather than a place to get away to for a week or two.

So, when the truck-from-Virginia-via Texas pulls up on Friday, it will set in motion the final stage—at least for the San Diego house—unpacking and finding homes for all the books and boxes and woodenware and cut glass and china and the myriad of other stuff packed last spring that have been waiting for transport west. Oh, the adventure of it all!

(to be continued)