Moving Sucks

We arrived at Fort Monroe, Virginia last week after an 18 hour drive from Wisconsin. We decided to bring both cars and our walkie-talkies were already packed and shipped, so we bought new ones.

Bob led the way in the Volvo and I followed closely in the Jag, which hasn't been fixed since I hit the deer. It still has a patch of fur caught in the headlight, kind of like a soul patch.

I am not sure whether Bob forgot I was behind him or if he was trying to shake me, but he wound in and out of traffic and I kept getting pinched out. At one point, I was caught in between two cars in a two car lane. I'm sure they were wondering what the Jag with the soul patch was doing, so after that, they stayed far away from me. After that, Bob's voice came over the walkie-talkie, "That sure was a close one." Then he sped off.

Our house here at Monroe is a huge old house built in 1907. It has 4 fireplaces and a maid's quarters on the third floor. The ceilings are 12 feet high. None of my curtains will fit. That's okay, the house is on the water so the view should be unobstructed. It's a beautiful post, too bad it is getting shut down. At least we'll get the opportunity to live in one of the great old houses from the Army's past.

The movers came on Monday and delivered our goods. There was minimal damage, but a couple of gouges to some of the larger pieces. On the inventory slip, every thing we own was marked as scratched, dented, gouged, rubbed, and damaged. It kind of hurts your feelings. Bob told the guy doing the inventory that he'd like to go to his house and inventory his furniture.

One vanity was missing the pieces that hold the mirror on, but the mover called us from back in Wisconsin and said they were on his truck. He mailed them to us.

Then the movers left and we have to unpack and put our stuff away. It takes days as we have 250 boxes to unpack. Many of them were of full of items we don't display, but we keep because they are sentimental. Like the hundred wine glasses from the various military balls we've attended. The huge wooden clock with a tiger figure burned on it that we got after giving up command of Tiger Sqn. We have a plaque with a boars head that weighs 25 pounds. The hundreds of framed pictures of various events. They all get unwrapped, then put into boxes sent to the basement only to be repacked when we move again.