Exactly one month ago we said goodbye to our beloved Maine and began our trek to Maryland, slightly over 700 miles away. For several weeks we'd been packing non-stop. Oodles of trips to Goodwill, the dump and Home Depot for boxes, wrapping paper and tape. We couldn't have done it without Pamela and Sarah, who packed the never-ending kitchen, and Debbie, who adeptly crated up the prints and paintings.
A couple of days previously my dear friend Christie flew to Maine from Connecticut in order to drive my car, loaded with plants, garden statuary, booze and anything else we couldn't put on the truck. What a gift! It meant that Bill and I didn't have to drive the 700 miles in tandem. She stopped for a few days in her home of Stamford, then brought the car on to Maryland.
I've had my piano moved many, many times and I honestly don't want to count them. Even though it strikes fear in my heart, it is actually an interesting process. The 3 legs are carefully removed as the piano is turned on its side. The piano is then wrapped in blankets and strapped to a special piano board. These movers also put shrink wrap around it as an extra measure of protection. Above you'll see the piano coming out the front door and down the steps. The three guys were straining, grunting and huffing, to be sure.
After the movers left we walked around the house one last time, picking up a few forgotten things and saying goodbye. I think we were suffering from a mild case of shock...bone tired and emotionally worn out, we sat on the front steps and took this photo.
As we were leaving, a friend that we hadn't seen for years dropped by, having no idea of our plans. He walked into the empty, echoing house, and all I could manage was Paul, you have caught us at a very odd time. I hope he forgave my lack of hospitality and inability to make small talk.
We are in Centreville now, reversing the packing process. All in all we are doing well and longing to feel settled.