It’s Monday night of the Labour Day weekend and I’ve just gotten home from Edmonton. Our daughter bought her second condo and took possession six short days ago. She also needed to vacate and clean her original condo in time for the new tenants?two international students attending the University of Alberta?to move in on the 30th.
To say that many of us have worked like dogs is an understatement. I hurt in places I didn’t know I had places. My back aches from the countless boxes I’ve moved over the last several days.
At the new place there’s a ramp leading up to a security gate securing a cobblestone courtyard with plantings and central elevator. We’ve been using a wheeled dolly, a small wheeled hand truck, and a larger wagon with casters and a backstop to move dozens of boxes. I should have worn my pedometer to measure the miles I’ve made. My arms and calves have gotten a real workout.
In addition to the actual move we did a great deal of painting at the new place. Good thing I’ve got a bionic shoulder; November will mark two years since my surgery. Three closets (including a walk-in), two bathrooms, a master bedroom, and an office have all gotten two coats of paint.
The master was trickier because the bulkhead was painted one shade lighter than the wall colour. Can we all say ?I hate cutting in? in unison? The far larger kitchen/dining/living area is on hold for now as far as repainting goes. I think Hilary is secretly waiting for us to recover before launching into the next big thing.
And let’s be clear, the place did not need to be painted but our family always likes to put our stamp on things, so paint we did. My mom was indispensible in this area.
I think what’s harder to swallow than all the hard work done in such a short time is the way some sellers leave the property.
What sort of people don’t leave even a square of toilet paper behind? Or even all the pieces of the holder? Or patch a fist-sized hole in the drywall?
Did they know the kitchen faucet would break off in Hilary’s hand on day one? Did they know that the lock to the powder room would finally work when no one was inside? And that the lock couldn’t be picked or the door removed from its hinges? We always change the lockset on the exterior door whenever she moves. With this place, every single one has been, or will be, replaced.
What kind of people can’t or don’t tighten the screws on the cupboard hinges? What kind of people live with a bathroom faucet that has the temperatures reversed and don’t get it switched? I’ve gotta believe that karma kicks in, in cases like this. I don’t know who they are or where they’ve gone, but I do believe what goes around comes around.
Luckily, moving is like childbirth. Eventually we forget the pain of it all and have that second kid or help with another move. At least That’s what I’m counting on, from where I sit.