Tag Archives: moving?


I came from a small village of 400 souls. Then I had to deal with a high school with 2.500 students.

All I can think of was that we were the geeks. I gave the reference to AA Milne and we voted on names. I was named first, Piglet. I was tiny and a year younger than everyone. Alex was my math mentor on geometry, I was his on Algebra. He was Eeyore the donkey.

I believe that they named me correctly, the young one who would care about people and animals and make a difference in life. New state, strange space, no friends, I picked some good ones, as I always do.

When you think about moving, always think about your kids. They can deal with it if you prepare them. We moved all the time and were sent to a different school. Certain schools had kids that were nasty so we moved schools or homes that was better but not great. At least the guys behind me on the bus no longer put gum in my hair as my first visit to that school was not the best.

As your kids say,  I don’t want to leave my friends, you say he/she will always be your friend. I know. I’ve friends from grade school, high school and college and they are loyal. Only a few will survive from your social networks over the years but if you travel through our great country and beyond you will learn, Thanks Eeyore, Dee


I See Dead People

My mother died nearly nine years ago and her number is still on my phone and on my computer. Dad died over the holidays. I’ve multiple numbers. My old college friend Led, and others.

It is not a burden, but a blessing. Once the initial rawness of the death eases, one is able to associate a fond memory when going through a list for holiday cards, for example. Now I always arrange flowers for Dad every week, also for my living family, my husband and of course dog Zoe.

There are changes in our lives and we must choose how to live through them. Change is always an issue. My husband and I are agents of change in business but sometimes I resist when it involves moving our nest, at our expense, unnecessarily. We undergo change all the time and sometimes I envy folks who settled down early, had a family, bought a house and have lived in it for 50 years.

My husband said that before we met and he moved, he used three feet of space, the minimum on a freight truck. Years later, when we actually had furniture, we were at 12 feet. Now we’d be more because we have his grandma’s china and my mother’s Lenox china for ten, and the nun desk. That’s another story.

He tells people I cost him nine linear feet. I tell folks he married me because when we walked along the Pacific Ocean our first weekend dating as the sun set, he stood behind me and placed his chin on my head and arms around my shoulders. He married me because I am the perfect chin rest. I also cook and Lucy, you’ve now got some ‘splainin’ (planning) to do. For menus. He’s here all week. First time since the holidays.

I’ll get to work. Have a wonderful day! Cheers, Dee

Moving and Stuff

I had ten minutes to clean out underneath my kitchen sink yesterday before the sink fell in and had to be re-glued. The left side has the usual, dish soap, a box of dishwashing detergent, flower food, and two special (empty) wine bottles I’d like to have cut down with labels to use as vases or planters.

The middle is our trash can, away from the dog’s prying nose. Right side is my ersatz tool box (hammer, screwdrivers, picture hangers, moving materials including rolls of really good tape, moving tape dispensers, locks, keys, plus pop-up sponges and plastic scrubbies for non-stick pans). Oh, also cable ties and who knows what else. I cleaned the entire cabinet before the gent who was helping us out with the sink had to get underneath to fix things. My husband’s three tool boxes are in storage so give me a hammer and a and a flat head and Phillips screwdriver and I’m good.

That was when I thought, why do we move? The last move we made was for three months. We stayed three years. It was furnished down to the last cup and spoon and we vowed not to get anything permanent. Yes, we bought great food, I cooked it and we and ate it. Perhaps over the years we each bought ten books, technical, mine cooking and his new computer languages. In the end, we were still able to place all our clothing (oh, we had to add to that for winter weather) and personal items, including the dog and her food and beds, into both cars to relocate. It all fit!

Moving has a purging effect. We do it every few years and I’m only stuck with some really old files because I’m afraid there are old photos, ideas, marriage certificate, car titles and otoher important stuff in there. Under the sink it was organized chaos. When my husband asks for regular tape you’d use for gift wrap, I get it for him from under the sink. I know where everything is.

You take the high road and I’ll take the low road….. old Scottish song about Loch Lomond, the best water in the world, take it from me living in Glasgow. Part of our marriage pact is that he gets whatever I need from up top, and I reach underneath to get tape, pots and pans. I equip every home to fit our reaching abilities. That would be important when we build our forever home.

Moving is a way of getting rid of stuff. I’ve already donated boxes and boxes of clothing and other items to charity. Still we have stuff. Another part of our agreement is no useless stuff. If I collect anything it’s books and art. And piles of paper. Food and my pantry are not part of the equation as they count as perishable and consumable. I do not need tiny figurines made of glass or clay.

A couple of years ago when I purged items, I found some art and made our bedroom a Tuscan retreat. He returned home after months on the road and said “You’re not moving, you’re nesting!” I told him anything I can see, I can pack. Now I collect boxes for everything. I need to at least break them down and take them to storage for later use.

Remember “have gun, will travel?” I have a professional moving tape dispenser and box cutter in the back pocket, ready to go! Purge and go! I love our place and our views but when I look underneath, I find stuff that’s got to go. I know how to pack a box, by now I should have a doctorate in moving. We can live wherever we want so have plotted a map by airport boarding statistics to get non-stop flights. We’re not only movers, we’re planners!

I should become a moving consultant. I mean it. Dad had a rule. Truck is here, unload, I’m going to check out the new job so unpack and have your bedrooms set up and boxes gone by dinner. Bye.

Aah, life. People here, if they move, they marry and move across the street from their parents. We lead a different life based on keeping our heads above water, and rarely get to see our parents or siblings. It’s a fact of life, like the kitchen sink. Cheers! Dee

Safety and Security

I feel safe here. When my husband is off at work for a week or months I know I have a safety net. Where? Everywhere. At all levels.

It’s called friends. Shhhh, don’t tell anyone. We’re in transition again, three times in a month. We’re not moving anywhere unless something’s real. I have home base and will cook. Husband will be able to come home weekends. Dog will like him again. Yes, she loves him again, he’s the Fun Guy and I’m the Walker and Food Wench.

Security hits me like a brick wall (or slipping on a wet walkway) as it also means monetary security and having three jobs in a month is crazy and doesn’t lead to contentment on the wife’s part.

He has his job, I try to keep our lives together by making his job easier. He has someone who takes care of the home, meals, dog. I review contracts, pay bills, do taxes, and am also a problem solver and former consultant. I’m retired from all and getting used to not being paid for what I do.

We need to move simply for airport access. No, we won’t be at the back of the runway but I’ll need safety. To be sure, my dear husband always checks out everywhere we live. He sleeps through the night and I’m up at every dog whine to get up to the bed or go out. He wants to make sure I can take our older dog out in the middle of the night and be safe. I love him for this. Zoe loves him.

It’s no longer Good Friday so Happy Easter! Make those eggs and Hot Cross Buns. Send the kids on an egg hunt. We’re going to enjoy a good day together before a flight elsewhere…. Dee


The Final Frontier

Yes, space.

Marrying me cost my husband space. Granted he got out of an abysmal man cave apartment on the first floor behind the mail boxes. It was dark, dingy, small and he had to keep the drapes and blinds closed all the time because of passers by. Never mind that there was one boxed lasagne (from his mother) in the freezer, individually wrapped string cheese in the frig with wrappers strewn between the frig and computer (he built one of the first home-made dual-brained computers with double monitors) and remnants of one 72 oz. Big Gulp Dr. Pepper.

I gained him space, light, cleanliness, no more clean pile/dirty pile laundry and healthy, hearty home-cooked meals.

He left me three weeks after we met, after having been dot-bombed. He rented the minimum three linear feet of space in an ABF freight truck and moved home for two weeks when he came back with a new job. We married after 16 months and a year later moved to Texas. Twelve linear feet on ABF frieght. He says I cost him nine linear feet.

Initially I brought our kitchen, office and bedroom into our home. Finally we got a real dining room, bedroom, and living room to call our own. Last time I believe it was 15 linear feet. Now, with a super futon for the guest room and more framed art it’ll probably take the entire truck. I think it’s 28 feet. Don’t know if we can fill it but we’ll try, that way we’ll be the only stop. After all, time is money, too. No, I won’t put the dog in there to fill it up. She has her 4″ orthopedic bed in the back of my SUV.

We’ve moved up in the world, literally and so far have had many nice views, close commutes, good neighbors and we’ve made some friends along the way. Family remains far afield but we visit when we can.

Our next step should include light, views, space as well as the basic necessities. That always includes a place for family and friends to visit. Cheers, Dee


I’m trying to consolidate existing accounts with which I’ve had phone relationships in the past, and no-one will talk to me unless I have my husband on the phone. This is ridiculous as I’m on every account.

We may be moving interstate or internationally and it is important to have our affairs in order. If my husband died, it would take hell and high water for his loving spouse (me) to gain access to our accounts and information regarding bills due.

If I were run over by a bus it would take him years to sort things out because he’s not paid a bill or done taxes in 13 years. Add that to making breakfast or dinner. He is a connoisseur of bacon, however. House-made, cinnamon apple maple or pork savory. Otherwise he’d eat BBQ or burgers. Or pizza, just not mine made with perfect 00 flour, whole milk mozz and freshly sliced pepperoni. Add some sauteed baby bellas and perhaps a sliced, also sauteed pepper.

I’ve worked all my life and then became a Mrs. who is taken around the country and the world. Now I have to deal with all these vendors, including MY bank where I had an account and added him to it upon marriage and now they will not talk to me, and I’ve become a non-person. That’s my next fight. Banks, big companies, you don’t know what you’re in for. Heads up, people. Women, we exist and need to be heard.

Zoe the dog will be OK no matter what, and so will we. Cheers, Dee

Moving Along

What I find strange about Great Lakes communities is that many people were born here, lived here all their lives, and will die here. Often there doesn’t seem to be a sense of wanting to explore the outside world.

My family was all over the place as my dad’s career advanced and he ended up in nationally recognized roles. For someone who hated the first day of a school I’d been in for a few years (the new teacher always mispronounced my true first and last names), moving to a new school was torture. “Call me Dee.”

I learned coping mechanisms quickly. Lose the regional accent. I did it without even trying, just being around a few army brats for three weeks. Since I was twelve, no-one can discern where I’m from. I’m generic but throw in a y’all once in a while to show my time in the Lone Star State.

As a kid, don’t try to become head of the girls basketball team or guys, become football QB. Blend in. Be friendly to everyone, not just certain cliques. Join different after-school activities that interest you so you’re known for who you are. I was voted head of my gymnastics team in high school a few weeks after we moved into town. It wasn’t that I was a good gymnast, I was a good leader and motivated my team.

Let your parents and someone in authority know if you’re being bullied in any way. Don’t release any social media information until you have real friends. Skip the personal stuff there, too. Happy birthday is fine but topless photos will haunt you and your career forever.

For adults: As you find your way around the neighborhood and find groceries, restaurants, a place to get your car’s oil changed, and a drycleaner, be nice to these people. They’ll help you get around and give recommendations.

If you have a dog, please get to know the other dog owners on their walks. You may become friends.

Host a dinner for your new friends. Make it something participatory, like a Make Your Own Pizza party where you’ve made the dough, many toppings and have cheeses on hand. Ask someone to bring a salad or dessert.

Volunteer. Call your local Volunteer Center and ask if you can be of assistance. Join a gym, book club, knitting circle or church.

Make your home look like like a home as soon as you can. Dad always said every box had to be gone and our beds made the first evening. That’s the Teutonic upbringing. I failed this time because we had a temporary place for three months then brought all our stuff from storage and moved again. Next door, but again. I’ve business and personal papers from 20 years ago so don’t practice what I preach.

The most important thing to do while moving is save several boxes to go into the very back of the truck. Your beds, bedding and pillows. Set that up first so that when you run out of energy at the end of the night you can shower and crawl into your own safe place and be ready to face the next day. Cheers from an expert! Dee


Our relationship, which comprises nearly ten years of marriage, is measured in feet.

Before marriage, indeed three weeks after we met, my husband returned to Texas for two weeks, utilizing three linear feet, the minimum required by ABF Freight.

Two years later, post-marriage, I had brought in an entire kitchen, bedroom and office. He tells folks I cost him nine linear feet when we moved to Texas.

Years later, we lived in the Rockies for a few years in a furnished place and stored our stuff in Texas. A real bedroom, a living and dining room had been added to round out our lives.

A few weeks ago we moved in (still have a few boxes) and the cost, yes ABF once again, is 15 linear feet.

So, over ten years of marriage how can I give my love 12 linear feet??? Should we just renew our vows and have an ABF trailer at the site? Looking for ideas.

We live in a small space with great views and enjoy the people we’re meeting. I cook a lot and enjoy being able to walk to the store with a new cart he bought me that glides over the misshapen sidewalks and even preserves eggs!

Come to think about it, he’s jointly responsible for three of those linear feet so I only owe nine. And I did bring in an office and entire huge kitchen so he’s been able to use all that for eleven years so let’s take off another six.

But I do have a lot of old papers so three feet is all mine, which equals the three he needed in the first place so we’re even. I love you, dear! No more ABF trailers! Dee

Paying Forward, Inspiration and Perspiration

When I move, I always leave a roll of toilet paper, on the dispenser, in each bathroom. Why? Because I know how it is to get to a new place after a long drive and take a load of boxes up from the car knowing that the last 20 oz. Diet Coke I picked up with gas two hours ago is straining my bladder. Places like where we live now will remove any trace of our existence when we leave. Including the toilet paper. That’s sad.

So as of yesterday we have new neighbors. I lent them our dolley and helped break down a few boxes. Late afternoon I gave them some homemade Bolognese sauce, a box of spaghetti and some freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano. Just left it in a cooler at their door with a card saying we’d be in touch after they were rested.

I was thus inspired to get through some of our boxes, as we’ve been here eight weeks now. Issues have hampered my progress in this regard, including an emotional unwillingness to go through 20 years of papers because my husband and I never really commingled households, just stored … boxes.

So today I put up a lot of framed photos in boxes to go to storage because we simply don’t have the wall space. And I hung a few pieces as well. Plus I have the dining room ready to go except I can’t lift the 42″ glass round by myself.

Also I’ve prepared all the toppings and now need to make the dough for several homemade pizzas for a casual dinner this evening with other new neighbors.

Pizza #1 is sauteed spinach with garlic, mozz, and a bit of crumbled goat cheese

Pizza #2 is pears with Gorgonzola Dolce

Pizza #3 is Pissaladiere, caramelized onions with an anchovy garnish (none of that for hubby, he’s allergic to anything that swims)

Pizza #4 is classic white pizza (no sauce) with sauteed mushrooms and pepperoni.

Perhaps I’ll have enough dough to try a focaccia on the grill for later.

One said that with genius or ideas that it’s 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration. My new neighbors inspired me to perspire a bit, as I’m sure they have for the past few days.

Let’s hope we start a trend in a transient (many pro athletes and professionals from all over the world) community by welcoming new neighbors and saying hello in the elevator. It’s easier for us because we have a dog. Everyone (even people I’ve never met) always ask about the dog if she’s not with me! We’re known by Zoe everywhere we move.

Take care and enjoy the weekend. Cheers, Dee

Then the Blender Fell on My Head…

Yes, I was trying to organize things after my husband built me a pantry and couldn’t find space for a Kitchenaid blender with a heavy glass jar so temporarily wanted to place it on a top shelf while I found a better place to plug it in.

The blender jar fell and hit me on the head (ouch!) then hit the dog’s dry food container then the floor a foot below. It’s OK. I’ve a bruise and headache.

I wanted to take a photo for you and even found the camera for a moment but can’t remember where that was. I have no clue anymore. And it’s not like we’re living in 10,000 s.f. or anything, it’s more like 1,248. Pictures of family are going to have to into storage for a while because of the number of windows we have looking out at the Lake.

Today I opened and put away 13 boxes. My goal was ten but I hope to get the coat closet finished (two boxes of overcoats and boots) tonight so we can take some things to storage in the morning.

Then Wednesday is donation day, and Thursday, hopefully document shredding day then the futon arrives 2:00 p.m. and I must have the office set up and free of boxes. Friday m-i-l and 9 year-old nephew arrive late afternoon for a few days.

But I’m so glad my head stopped the blender jar from breaking. Zoe (the dog) is glad her food container helped out as well, because how else would she survive without a Mom who feeds and walks her? Up since 1:30 this morning I’m a bit punchy but did get an hour’s nap after the 12th box.

Hope you’re having a good day and remember to never leave your stuff in storage for 3 1/2 years! You end up with duplicates and triplicates of certain things, like box graters and juice reamers. Cheers! Dee