It dawned on Mark and I the other day, that moves I remember as a child, the military packed everything up. Except moving to Oklahoma, but I don't remember much about that as far as boxes are concerned. Our move from Rexburg to Rigby as newlyweds didn't involve much packing as we didn't have much yet.
Even moving from off base in England to on base, we had the movers who came and boxed everything, drove it to the base, and dropped it off at the new house. Spoiled? Maybe a little.
For the first time, I am attempting a major move without any outside mover help. Collecting boxes that were luckily saved from our move here, my sister-in-law's move here, and the local grocery store and discovering Mark was smart enough to save a huge bunch of packing paper. I've got flat boxes stored in several nooks and crannies, and packed ones stacked in the living room, bedrooms, and closets. We've been through several rolls of tape and still have more to go.
The hard part, other than all the crazy over getting the loan which is a complete blog post in and of itself that will not get written for a while because I'm still suffering residual stress, is living with the boxes everywhere! If we took Mark's mom's offer to store them in her garage, then the elder's quorum would have to help with the furniture here, and then go to her house and load boxes there too. With only 9 days to go it's just easier to leave them here. But our life is now stepping around box piles! I plan on taking a picture the day before moving day, because we'll be packing things like clothes and last minute stuff we'll be using until it goes into the box, and the house will be full. All the chaos will be worth it to unpack in our own place, but for now, I sure wish we had our own garage to stick all these dratted boxes!
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