I have wonderful news, everybody: our stuff has finally arrived! If you've been following my whinging... I mean blogs... Then you know that few things here ever go off quite as planned.
Hubby told me on Thursday evening that our crate was due to arrive at 9:00 a.m. Friday. Excited to finally have my own bed, books and DVDs so close to home, I cancelled my Friday plans. I woke up that morning eagerly awaiting the moment when the crate would arrive and be unpacked. I sat, quite literally on the edge of my seat as i watched TV and waited for the doorbell to ring. Nine o'clock passed. Eleven o'clock passed. Two o'clock passed. (Around this juncture, Hubby sent off a nasty email to the moving company telling them how upset he was at their inability to show up on time.) Two thirty passed.
Then, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang. Could it be? Is it possible? Yes! Yes! Yes! Still not willing to let late-gones be bygones, I quite sternly told the boss that I had plans that evening that I was not going to allow him to wreck. He had exactly two hours to unpack the crate and put everything in the appropriate rooms. A look of fear lit in his eyes so I relented and said that they could return the next morning to actually unpack the boxes themselves. (And y'all said I was a meanie.)
What followed was as much fun as Christmas Eve at my parent's house. I couldn't actually unpack the boxes and had to guess as to their contents. Ok that one seems to have books in it, "Second floor office, please." DVD's?! "First floor living room." A lampshade? "Well, send that to the living room also." And so the afternoon went.
They actually would have finished on time, if not for our oh, so comfy mattresses and the giant Ikea wardrobe that the wonderful ACES guys built for us. I chose not to watch as they hoisted the these items all the way up to the balcony above our second floor, then back down to the terrace on the second floor, and into the side doors of our bedroom. Stout rope and a few guys that didn't look all that strong are all that were between my having a good night's sleep and the gross, bug filled, dirty pavement.
If unloading was Christmas Eve then unpacking was definitely Christmas morning. There were a few boxes of things that were packed that we really didn't need to have brought with us. (See lampshade comment above.) For the most part; however, each box held a new delight and happy surprise: snuggly Frogger who will soon find his new home in the guest room; family photos that still need to find their proper places and much more. We definitely brought too much stuff with us, but I'm glad to finally have my things around me.
On the depressing side, two things broke from the entire shipment. All my Waterford is fine. All my drinking glasses and dishes are fine. Sadly, the oil lamp my friend hand made for me as a wedding gift had its handle broken off. And, worst of all, my Jemima Puddleduck night-light was shattered beyond repair. *sniff* I've had this since i was a kid and had been thinking how nice it would be to give to our unconcieved daughter. Of all the things to get broken...
Even with all the delays (two months and six hours, but who's counting?) and scary moments (peeking at the wardrobe suspended 20 feet in the air was a huge mistake) I a’m happy to finally have all our things.
Tonight, instead of watching "Becker," we'll pop in a Xena DVD, order some pizza and make a night of it! Life is definitely Ok.
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