Two major moving milestones: (1) Yesterday I packed the first box. (2) Today I ordered new return-address labels.
Both of these are still a little risky, because the closing (when the house officially becomes ours) isn’t until later next month. But this week has marked the end of the uncertainty period for us as buyers. There were things we had to have evaluated/inspected as part of our offer, and then the seller had to accept/decline what we asked them for as a result of those evaluations/inspections, and so things could easily have fallen through on either side: we could have found something we weren’t willing to deal with at all (“We’re sorry to back out but the inspector said the walls are at least 80% termite at this point”); or we could have asked the seller to handle something and the seller could have declined to do so, and that too could have ended the deal. (I have heard from friends who live elsewhere that it is not common in those places to ask sellers to fix things. Where I live, it’s assumed that the asking price of the house reflects a house that is safe and usable; if anything in the house is not safe or not usable, and that thing hasn’t been disclosed ahead of time as something already taken into account when setting the asking price, it’s common for the seller to agree to handle/fix it or else give a credit or partial-credit at closing for the cost of handling/fixing it. But it would not be common for sellers to fix anything cosmetic or relatively minor: broken fence, painting, broken interior doorknob. We are talking more along the lines of fixing faulty electricity, a broken water heater, a dangerous furnace, etc.)
But we said what we wanted handled/fixed/credited, and the seller agreed to those things, and we all signed our names. It looks to me as if our part is now pretty much over, except for all the packing and cleaning and moving and paper-signing and address-changing and utilities and insurance and everything else. But we don’t seem to have very many pre-closing things to do, if any. The seller has to work on the fixes they’ve agreed to do, and as long as they DO do those fixes, I don’t see any particular reason to think things would fall through at this point. Our hope is that the fixes will be done briskly: both parties agreed informally ahead of time that if possible we’d all enjoy closing earlier than originally scheduled.
And so that seemed to be my cue to pack a box or two. I geared up for it: I had coffee and scrambled eggs, and I told myself I could watch ONE episode of West Wing while I ate, and then when that was over I had to pack a box. It was a good first box-packing, too: I packed up quite a bit of a closet. It’s the closet where I keep things such as gift bags, tissue paper, gifts I bought for a specific someone and then forgot about, gifts I bought for an unspecified someone and then never found the right person, gifts I bought to have on hand if one of the kids suddenly got invited to a party, etc. While I did pack a lot of it, I got rid of more than I packed. It was a little painful, yet satisfying and refreshing. Like peeling surgical tape off the skin when it’s been there a couple of days. I donated:
• every gift bag I didn’t like
• any specific-someone gift that no longer seemed like a good idea
• any unspecified-someone gift that had been there more than a couple of years
• every kid-birthday-party gift that was for an age group younger than my youngest kid
• two Target bags of fabric ribbon, bought on clearance long ago when I thought I might be someone who would wrap gifts in hemmed fabrics and reusable cloth ribbons
• a dozen decorative reusable gift boxes purchased on clearance during that same deluded stage
• two Target bags of disposable gift bows and ribbons I hardly ever use because our cats try to eat them; I kept one spool because I do very occasionally use it for a craft or for a gift I’m giving outside our household, and so if I don’t keep some I’ll have to go out and buy more and that would be galling
Long ago I read a book on hoarding, and the one thing I remember about it (other than my rapidly-reached conclusion that I may be someone who likes to save things but in no way do I qualify as an actual hoarder) is that the most painful moment of getting rid of something is RIGHT BEFORE your hand lets go of it. That is, they asked hoarders to throw something away, and they would have the person evaluate their level of stress and pain as they held the item over the trash or donation barrel, and the person would be right up there at 9 or 10—weeping with reluctance to get rid of the thing, thinking they couldn’t bear to get rid of it. Then they asked the person again about five minutes after the item had been disposed of, and the person would rate their stress and pain at around a 1 or 2, or even a 0. I found this very useful when getting rid of those gorgeous and totally unused gift boxes. They’re so pretty! They’re so sturdy! But I’m not using them for ANYTHING. I’ve kept them for years in case I could think of a use! But I have not thought of a use! Let’s set those pretty things free in the world for someone else who CAN find a use for them!
…Where was I? Oh, yes: I packed a box. Just the one box.
Today I have packed two more boxes. I keep getting stuck, is one problem. Like, I start to pack up the books, and realize a lot of the books aren’t mine to decide if we’re keeping them or not. Or I realize I don’t have enough smallish boxes for packing books, and need to get more from the liquor store (my friend Morgan got me two huge batches of moving boxes from people in her neighborhood, so Small Boxes for Heavy Things is the only gap I need to fill). Or I wonder can we possibly get rid of Paul’s dozen box sets of DVDs, now that it’s been nearly a decade since we had a DVD player?—but I guess I should ask him and not assume. Or I think, “Can I pack the winter coats, or does that guarantee an early cold snap?” And so on. But I did pack two more boxes.
And I ordered the address labels. That’s a practical thing (it’s nice to have them for one million change-of-address purposes) but also a celebratory one: I remember when we moved to this house, it was a very exciting stage of the process. If the sale were to fall through, I would be out a little bit of money, but it’s not enough of a risk to be worth waiting. And it was a lot of fun to choose. Go on and guess how many of the four sets I entered our CURRENT address on, before realizing it. (It was all four.)