Vicki here, standing in for a moment while Momma K wraps dishes and tapes boxes.

When it comes to moving, there are certain household items that never fit back into their original packaging: Aero beds, down comforters and lamps to name a few. Not to worry, most of us don’t save the original packing anyway. Momma K is moving this week and I’m having sympathy pains. I haven’t been visible over at OutsideIn lately because we are getting ready to do the same: sell, buy, move. If only it were that simple.

For me, moving is an opportunity to lighten up, unclutter, pare down. Get rid of ancient tomes on Freudian psychology. This will be the first time I’ve ever moved with a “relo” package. I’m not sure but I think this is where the new employer is so happy you’re coming they send a moving company right on over to take care of everything. But I’ve heard horror stories of homeowners going out to lunch while professional packers come in and do it all- only to find themselves, a week later, in the new house with the moldering contents of their old refrigerator and used diapers fermenting in the pail. Oh, wait. No one uses those anymore.

Whatever. I intend to pack myself and divest us of material belongings in the process. Here is a partial list of what goes into the yardsale/Salvation Army pile:

All of the upholstered furniture.
All of the shoes. (Rich is the Emelda Marcos of golf shoes).
The microwave.
A giant red plastic lobster.
2 televisions, 14 broken phones, 3 VHS players, 4 old computers, 6 WalkMan tape players,11 solar calculators, 5 dead cell phones and a Dictaphone.
The AB roller.
18 year old cross country skis.
4 cheap floor lamps with corroded brass bases.
5 Rubbermaid tubs of unfinished craft projects.
Most of his clothes.
37 world globes (don’t ask).
Most of my clothes.
All of his mother’s old Noritake china. All of my mother’s old Pfaltzgraf dishes.
600+ bottles of hotel shampoo.

Here are items that must go on the moving van:

1 Rubbermaid tub of 25 year old baby clothes.
2 Rubbermaid tubs of Legos.
3 Rubbermaid tubs of Brio trains.
1 Rubbermaid tub of Lincoln Logs.
5 Steiff teddy bears.
Benjamin Piggy Toes doll.
10 ft. potted banana tree.
10 ft. potted Norfolk Island Pine.
125 # potted Jade plant.
4 ft. diameter Christmas Cactus.
My grandmother’s Bleeding Heart plant.
My mother’s Columbine.
Gene’s Ground Cherry seeds.
Quentin’s mother’s Iris.
David’s Tidal Basin Cherry tree.
One pot of everything else in the perennial bed.
15 bird houses and feeders.
One aviary with 12 finches.
One ancient guinea pig.
Two cranky cats.

So, you see what I’m up against with this move. It’s further complicated by the fact that I believe I’m about to become a city mouse living in a brick row house with no yard.

Momma K is moving into her dream house. How cool is that? She’s worried that she’s talking too much about moving but, frankly, I want more information. I’d like pictures. How many bedrooms? Baths? Square feet? I want to know what kind of a mortgage rate she got. Momma K, did you have to take a bridge loan?

Kidding, Just kidding. I do have an idea though. Don’t you think we should have a house warming for Momma K? We could all bring a dessert or bottle of wine, admire the open floor plan and share moving stories. I think I’ll get that on the schedule. And remember Momma K: bend your knees when you lift…

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