The art of moving is not one easily achieved. You may naively think that it is only boxes, tape and blankets the first time you move, but after that it is you against government-grade tape and the dreaded book boxes. It is paper cuts and back aches, as well as the studying of the angles of walls or doorways to engineering specifications so that you can stuff that couch from the door and into the living room. The beauty of a move is not in setting up a new home, but in outwitting the satellite TV company into giving you the promotion prices, even when your long-time patronage does not merit them – for you are a mover.
The mover is somewhat confident that the fruits of his labor will go successfully from one home to another without any negative consequences. This is the downfall of this particular creature. For no matter how much paper is wrapped around the precious item and even if the box has padding below and above, the unpacking of said object is particularly slippery while unwrapping.
If you are lucky enough to assign your task to a professional mover, just wait until you see how they wrap your favorite little Swarovsky crystal figurines: in a square of paper so big, that to actually locate the crystal you need a magnifying glass and a maybe a glass of scotch. If you are unlucky enough to employ a semi-professional mover, you may not see your more expensive works of art again. Beware of movers that say they have to rearrange the truck before they can make it to your home, and for goodness sake, do not let them go before accounting for every box.
The art of moving is an elusive, mysterious and ancient process. Humans have been moving for centuries, whether it is against their will, or in their search of better prospects. In modern times, it is the search for job, family and belonging. Every year, one in five American families makes a move. However, the trick is to get your belongings there in some sort of organized fashion. The online reference for home matters, Organized Home, suggests, “a business planner or moving notebook is more important to a move than boxes and tape.” Ever the optimist, the mover plans well ahead for any possible obstacles to this mission. It is all for naught.
Once you decide to move, the first thought is, “Do I really need all this stuff?” Some stuff is highly visible. There is no problem in selling those things to accomplish a fresh start to your living environment; free of clutter so that your neighbor will not nominate you for the latest show about hoarding. It is the stuff you have stuffed in drawers, plastic storage boxes under the bed, and, (Jaws theme begins in your head), the closet so that, if you were to open it, a major flood of sentimentality would flow.
You may wonder where the inspiration for this diatribe comes from. Recently, my mother-in-law, Marilyn, moved from Dallas, Texas to Flagstaff, Arizona. A professional mover was used, auctions took place, utilities were shut off and hooked up, address changes sent. Basically, it is the most organized planning that one can afford.
She thought she was safe, but even though she sold tons of “stuff,” there is still more piled to the ceiling in the overflow room, which will some day be a craft room. It is a room to be avoided. A room to forget about until the first major company comes for an inaugural visit. A room that belongs to, (dramatic pause), the mover.
The art of moving is one worth studying. If you master the plan, you will certainly deserve a Pulitzer Prize for scientific discovery.
Blog by Lisa M Pickering
Interview with Marilyn Scott,