Moving from Europe times two

The whole process of moving one household lock, stock and antique from Europe back to the U.S. is a bear. To do what Bill and I are doing--moving two complete households, and two cars at the same time we are going to work nearly every day--is a recipe for meltdown.

Dealing with all the necessary paperwork of both retiring and moving with no central point of information and guidance has been frustrating and time wasting. Because of our status here--we both came over on separate orders and must go back that way--every single paper and process has to be done twice as we stay in our respective homes and get them ready by ourselves. Tomorrow, at last, we have an appointment to go to the transportation office to set schedules for packing and pick up of household goods and moving of cars. We've decided to ship Bill's goods first so his house will empty and he'll come stay with me for a few days and help with the last minute things before my packout. My house is closer to our work location so it made sense to do it that way. My car will ship first so we can keep his and use his roomier storage compartment for hauling things around.

From Europe we will wade through six shipments all of which ship at different times and take at least 30 days in transit:

1. Two of unaccompanied baggage (military lingo for small-shipment-of-kitchen-linen-clothes-TV-tools to ship early, arrive early and help you set up house in a primative manner at your home of record or alternate destination), packed into wooden crates, put on trucks, moved to a container ship, sailed across the ocean to Norfolk, Va., taken off the ship, onto trucks, driven to 931 (number of our new house in Blacksburg), taken off the trucks and hauled into the house, placed by the workers wherever we tell them so we have stuff to wear, dishes to cook with and eat from, no table upon which to eat, no bed upon which to sleep because all that is too big for this baggage shipment; tools for hanging pictures if only we had some, a mini computer if only we had a service. Etc.
2. Two major loads of household goods (see transportation route in 1. above)
3. Two cars placed in seagoing containers and shipped into either Richmond or Norfolk, arriving several weeks after we get there and several weeks apart. Note to self: buy Hertz stock now. (See transportation route in 1. above minus the personal delivery to our driveway.)

Don't forget, what gets shipped out must get shipped in and we must be standing ready at the door on all days of delivery to watch the trucks back down our long forest drive, watch the men tromp dirt and snow into our lovely house, over the beautiful oak flooring and off-white carpet to place each piece and unpack each box, praying the whole time that nothing was stolen or broken.

On my move over here, the head board to my long-sought and treasured bedroom set came in the door in two pieces, reducing me to tears at the end of a stressful day all alone save the German movers. Moments after seeing it, a lovely neighbor showed up with a pot of coffee in one hand and a kid in the other, took one look at me and invited me next door for wine instead.

In the U.S. already, we both have non-temporary storage of items we decided not to ship here. For me, non-temp means 17 years but I guess neither myself or the storage folks had any idea I'd stay so long and therefore really should have called it long-term storage.

1. From Norfolk to Blacksburg they will deliver my relatively small amount (I hope) probably before any of the European shipments arrive or at least they will if we ever actually get them a set of orders and our overall schedule. The most welcome thing that will come from that shipment will be a small dining table and chairs and maybe the ping pong table to help us while away empty hours waiting for the next onslaught.
2. From Richmond they will deliver something belonging to Bill. He doesn't remember what he stored but thinks maybe there is a wash machine which, of course, we no longer need because the house is equipped with all appliances. So now we'll have to sell or scrap an extremely heavy piece of useless metal.

Somewhere in this schedule my car will arrive somewhere and we'll have to drive all over the place to get rid of rental, pick up shipped car, get it registered, inflate the tires, put gas in it, hope nothing got damaged or stolen and drive back to Blacksburg with the car least helpful for carting things around. Did I mention we will then have to repeat the scenario for Bill's PT Cruiser x number of weeks later?

I will never move again.

And we're moving in February why??

(Photo is view from my home office door which opens on to the front porch of my beautiful home in Queidersbach, Germany.)

It has been snowing for a week.

All the locals told us it would be a hard winter. They were right, but seems a large part of the world is experiencing the same misery. Where we are trying to move from is covered in a white blanket even as the place we are moving to is getting pounded hard for the second time this year. "We haven't had much snow in five or six years," my cousin told me when I inquired as to the winter weather in Blacksburg.

It was certainly not our plan to move in February. We wanted to be out of here before then but all the accidents and recovery times just kept pushing us later and later.

This morning I cannot see the dense ivy at my front door. The trees are coated white yet again--the last coating never left, it just got added to. The funny front yard sculpture of a dog with his nonexistent head stuck in a hole in the ground is unseen, the only hint of his location being marked with a little mound of snow over the tip of his tail. Inside the metal body is a complete ant colony I discovered when I tried to move it to a new location. What are they doing now, buried in frozen darkness? I should have removed him and my favorite terracotta yard items into the garage while I had the chance this fall.

At the side patio I have been sprinkling seed on the bricks to make it easier for all the birds to find. I will run out soon. Seven fat blackbirds are either hunkered down in the deep snow, puffed out and unmoving, or hopping around pecking to find whatever they can not covered by the fall from last night. A netted bag of suet and nuts takes a while to get their attention. It is frozen and hard to eat. I should put on my boots and fill up the feeder. Grand tits, nuthatches, chaffinches and enormous jays are regular visitors. This morning, a solitary blackbird sits motionless inside the empty feeder, wondering why the filler-upper has been shirking her duties.

Inside the house, the packer-upper is hunkered down from the weather starting her third housebound day wondering why her "feeder" is so incredibly full and trying to get it ready to empty out.