This move to Oregon takes place in two stages. Ollie the cat and I fly to the west coast next Tuesday, 18 May (stage two). Today (stage one), the moving van will be loaded, including the car, so that furniture and household stuff will arrive in Lake Oswego at approximately the same time we do.
Meanwhile, we are renting a car and moving into a hotel until the closing on the Maine sale happens on 17 May.
In this series of posts about the move, many of you, dear readers, have commented about how organized I am. Well, not so much. Last weekend, an email from my brother included this note:
It sounds like you are moving into the camping out phase of moving out: “Now, damnit, why would I pack the can opener already.”
No kidding. It's happened to me with about a dozen items I packed too soon – even, sometimes, when I had made a mental note to leave them out until moving van day. New note to self:
- You are old.
- Your short-term memory is shot.
- Do not rely on mental notes.
- Write it down.
I suppose I should write down that note somewhere too.
The biggest mistake is that I have misplaced, lost or packed Ollie's sedative for the plane ride. And it's not even that I have much to remember for that day. I'm shipping everything else from the hotel by overnight express, so there is only me, Ollie and the laptop to keep track of.
I can live without a can opener; Ollie on a 12-hour trip at full consciousness is not something I want to experience – nor, I'm guessing, would other passengers be happy about it. So, another stop by the veterinarian will be squeezed onto the written to-do list.
At The Elder Storytelling Place today, Johna Ferguson: Women's Body Problems