Bad Day #3
Today is officially Bad Day #3 - Bad Day #1 being May 2, 2006, when the house burned down, and Bad Day #2 being the day we moved in to the rental home, when my mom was stuck trying to move everything from the hotel all by herself. Even the day we learned the dog is dying of lymphatic leukemia didn't make the list of Bad Days. That might tell you how bad this Bad Day #3 really was. I know I had a bunch more rotten days between then and now, but they definitely don't count.
The rented stuff is all gone - everything except the bathroom rug that I washed last night and forgot to move upstairs with the rest of the bathroom stuff this morning. The movers from Cort Furniture Rental came early this morning and hauled it all away. The house is much emptier now, but I'm sure that will be "corrected" very soon. One must not have open space when one could fill it up with stuff, right?
Still, it's not the furniture that I'm missing today. It's the cheese grater and the soup ladle. I had to use a SPOON to scoop my 16-bean soup out of the pot for lunch. A tragedy! What is this world coming to?!?
They took the rented washer and dryer first, and we now have hot water dripping in a steady stream in the laundry room. This requires the emptying of a large bucket beneath it every few hours. We could just hook-up the other washing machine and solve that problem, but it would mean I'd have to move the zillion things that are all over the storage room floor, and even stacked on top of that washer and dryer in the back corner. I'd go do it right now, but I'm stuck in Bountiful for another 2 hours. Guess what I get to do all night tonight?
My parents still don't have a bed, and there's no microwave - although I am told that some of our totally awesome family members are working feverishly to resolve those problems. Rest assured that they will get it all taken care of right away, because there's only one couch and I don't think my parents will both fit on it. Besides, the dog thinks the couch is hers.
The worst thing that happened today was that my dad fell into the "hole" around the foundation while he was attempting to move some more of those lovely pink insulation pieces into the backyard. He hurt his elbow, but claimed later that it's just "uncomfortable." Whatever that means, my mom doesn't believe him and is insisting that he have it looked at first thing tomorrow morning. Last I saw he was still attaching insulation to the foundation, and my mom was standing there scowling at him.
The only good thing that happened today is that Hunter put together the new set of awesome wood bunkbeds ALL BY HIMSELF. He got out his tools, read the instructions, and then proceeded to use a socket wrench with such great skill that the rest of us just stood around and watched him for a while. Then I came to my senses and got busy cursing at my "new" desk because I managed all on my own to rip off the support that I spent an hour carefully gluing back in place over the weekend.
Oh, and we have no internet because my dad's desk is still outside, still covered in soot, and the modem remains unplugged until it has something to sit on again. There's even more to this glorious story for today, but it involves a lot of very angry yelling about boxes, and I don't want to traumatize anyone else with that right now.
Drew took lots of pictures of the "moving" this morning. I'll post them some day when we have internet access from home again.
