T minus 1 day

I'm not terribly good at this moving stuff. I keep wanting to sort items, to impose order, to control. I can see why it's neat to have the movers pack your things for you, but I don't think I would like unpacking all the crap that they packed.

"Couldn't you see that this was garbage?"
"M'am, we pack everything."
"But that was a half eaten granola bar stuck in my child's sock drawer!! And these socks have holes in them! "
"Nevertheless m'am."

But the biggest reason I am not good at this moving stuff is that I am volume challenged.

I already knew this because several times each week, I have to deal with leftovers. Now, why we bother putting leftovers in the fridge is a bit of a mystery but I think has to do with tradition and a devotion to ritual, which are both probably caused by an underlying Catholic influence that manifests itself in only this one realm. The fact is, that with the notable exception of curry, most things I cook are looked at askance the first time I present them. Hence the leftovers. Now, why, having been rejected once, would I put my offering away in the fridge to putrify? (although more slowly than at air temperature - we've all done this homeschool science experiment, right?) It's not going to be greeted with cheers the second time around. I know this and yet, several times a week I scrabble for a glass casserole dish (because I never store food in plastic) to put it away in the fridge because 'maybe someone will have it for lunch the next day'. Yeah right. Maybe if I were a responsible adult, I would, but the Catholic thing didn't take very well, because I won't eat leftovers either. Except curry. We are all pointy elbows, jousting for position at the fridge door when curry is within.

The thing is, I can never pick the right glass casserole. Is it a cup? A litre? 2 litres? I always end up either a) picking something way to small, and then gradually going up in size, getting several containers dirty until I finally reach something to accomodate the gloop or b) picking something so huge that the gloop lies there like a miserable, lonely alien in a glass bubble. But until I try it, I have no clue whether the leftover gloop will fit in that darn container.

You can imagine how much fun this disability is when you're trying to pack the contents of your home into boxes. I stumble about with the boxes, holding them up to things, trying to figure this out. Because you don't want to waste a really nice big box on stuff if the smaller one would do. I'm not sure what I'm saving the big ones for, but it's obviously special.

Will the contents of the bathroom drawers fit into this? Will they? Let's try. The suspense is building. Half way through. Um, doesn't look good. Better get a bigger box. OK. How about this? Yeah, that's good. Oh look, it fits! Yes. But now I have to find something to go on top because all the stuff is spread single layer on the bottom! Hmmmm... That should fit.....

Roo just eyeballs a thing, wades to the pile of boxes, reaches over, grabs the perfect size box, stuff the thing in, tapes it shut. Next.

It's a privilege to watch a packing master at work. Unfortunately, the packing master had to go to his other work today and I'm left with all the odds and ends. Yes, for my final challenge, I will try to pack fishing rods, and Ikea wine rack, miscellaneous camera crap, and a violin. Maybe in 1 big box. There's a nice one there I've been saving.....I'm sure it will all fit......