Three Moves Equal One Small Fire

A now-ex-colleague said this to me in the days before I left my job. But if three moves equal one small fire, an overseas move is depleted-uranium armaments crashing through the walls of one's household. I can think of nothing other than how to purge our household of all the stuff we can't take, and it's amazing that two people can accumulate this much stuff. The packers told me as we left that they'd packed 107 boxes. Simply amazing. And that doesn't include the bits of furniture we'll be taking with us. Tomorrow promises to be an immovable object meeting an irresistible force. The movers arrive, and shortly thereafter will arrive maid service and junk haulers. I've put out an appeal on my local freecycle list to prevent our belongings from ending in the landfill, but I fear much will. I have no patience, however, as tomorrow will really be my last chance to get bulky items out of the house. The house is listed on Wednesday, and the open house is Sunday, so we can't have garbage sitting in the house or on the curb.

The experience of selling and giving your belongings away certainly serves as food for thought about our relationship with our belongings, not to mention our fellow man. I'll probably post on that a little later. But not now.