Boxes

Well, since we are in fact actually, really, truly moving this time, for reals, with a date and everything, there has been much talk about boxes.

Did you know it is entirely possibly to have a twenty minute conversation about the virtue of certain cardboard boxes? There’s boxes for linens (big), boxes for books (liquor), boxes that are good but need a bit extra (banana), and where to find boxes.

- grocery stores (call ahead and they’ll save a pile from Produce)
- liquor stores (find out what day they get their shipment and pull up to the loading dock)
- cheap department stores (various, great for household goods because that’s what they sell, duh.)

And then you have how to pack boxes, whether to fold or tape shut, differing label techniques (markers or stick on), what to wrap around fragiles (newpapers leaves smudges but linens have to go somewhere), and what exactly consitutes a breakable anyway. Besides dishes, that is.

We have to do things differently, so as we pack I have to decide what’s staying behind (because we’ll be back to work on the place), what we can move ourselves – both on moving day in our car, and what we can move later with all the going back and forth, plus the horrifying realization of the sheer volume of books we own against the knowledge we are being charged by weight.

The books will temporarily remain behind.

Carl dropped in real quick this afternoon to drop off two bags full of newspapers. Since he had time, I asked him if he could take me to the bargain-type store down at the mall. When we got there, I waved in the general direction of their loading dock at the side. He drove off and I went in the front mall area. I then went straight to the back of the store, right by the “staff only” doors. I’d been there before, I knew the drill. I found a staff member, asked for some boxes and she brought me back three.

I clarified that I could take as many as she wanted to give me, and that’s the magic password to beyond the doors. I walked all the way back through, waved to the stockroom guy Ron & I had seen on Sunday, and got ready to sort by the loading bay. One of the employees opened the big door, and…

No Carl.

I looked around, didn’t see him, so I started making a pile outside. By this time, THREE employees were helping me, and we were having a grand time. They were dumping the unsuitable ones in the dupster. Pretty soon a van drove up. Not Carl, just another lady looking for boxes.

“MY BOXES!” I said. Actually, not really, although I did almost blurt that out. She was moving too, and took a couple armloads. In talking with her, I discovered she did not know about the liquor store, for today is the day they are full of boxes.

Amatuer.

Anyway, when I had a huge enough pile, the staff promised not to throw it out on me, and I went off around behind the mall to find Carl. Lost again. He was parked near the back door, so I waved him over. When we got to my pile, he was ready to scratch his head. I think he may have took off his cap and scratched anwyay.

Eventually we got all the boxes in the car, and it only took two tries. We confused one employee, as she had seen the trunk full, then we pulled down the seat and pushed things into the back. So the next time she came out the trunk was empty. Heh.

Now, it takes real skill to get big boxes in a small trunk of a mid-sized sedan. Carl has just graduated to expert status. As we pulled away, I asked somewhat rhetorically if he had any idea just going to pick up a few boxes turns into an adventure. “Well, it does make things interesting,” was the reply. But we agreed it makes a good story for the blog.

At least we have our priorities straight.