Moving

Moving

Moving in is usually a blur of boxes. This move was more so because of the compressed schedule. (two days to paint, one week to be moved in enough for Tess’s birthday party).

We rented a small apartment with rooms decorated in baby blue and yellow, pale jade and baby pink. 20 liters of paint later, it is now tan and cream (I left the halls white). My tush was saved by my friend Estelle who trotted over with coffee about 10 a.m., grab a roller and start attacking the walls. She would paint non-stop til it was time for her to pick up her son from pre-school. I picked up the kids, took them back to the hotel and then back to the apartment in the evenings.

You might think I was painting alone, but I was painting with the ghost of my mother. Wonder Matcy was brought low two years ago when she broke a bone in her foot coming off the bottom rung of a ladder. The punishment did not fit the crime. In that small step, she broke the bone that held her toes together and she spent weeks in a wheelchair.

I spent two nights with Mom’s voice as a constant companion: “Careful off the ladder! Don’t slip! Don’t wear socks, it makes your feet too slick.”

Our movers were the best we have ever had.

Three guys unloaded dozens of boxes and then declared themselves at our service for the rest of the day. They set up our bed, assembled dressers, unloaded boxes, carried to the storage room and the garage. They were funny and polite. The guy who spoke the least English had the best voice and he and I sang together through the afternoon. All three would happily assemble as Andy instructed but move things only to where I would tell them. Perfect!

We told them to go home at 3 because they had to drive back to Frankfurt.

Now the last piece of Ikea furniture is assembled and we only have four boxes of random stuff to unload.

Estelle was back in action for the movers, as always, fortifying me with coffee and the occasional chocolate pudding. She is an absolute work horse who somehow never manages to get mussed up. She just hummed in Afrikaans and unpacked the kitchen.

Andy’s latest skill, installing lights into ceiling wires that have two, three or four wires, all of which are blue?? So much for color-coding. Lights don’t convey with apartments or houses in Germany so all we had in each room are wires dangling down from a hole in the ceiling. He uninstalled a single, dangling lightbulb that was hanging in Micah’s room (we called it the interrogation room). For those who care about these things, Andy did buy a multimeter before attempting this.