Wherein I sell my childhood

I hate this moving thing! The packing, the unpacking when you discover you put something important away in a box, the repacking of the box which is never quite as good as before...... argh!

The thing that is really getting to me is the selling/giving away/throwing out of stuff. Stuff that has been around ever since i can remember. Stuff that I don't want to get rid of because it has a memory. but it is really just stuff, an there is no room for it at the new house, or in my current vagabond life of unemployed-ex-student-possibly-student-again-very-soon.

Like the salt and pepper set. They are bright 1970s orange. They matched the plain wooden set my grandma had. They sat on our dinner table every single night I was growing up. My brother and I used to hide them on my father once mom had determined he had had enough salt on his dinner. There are good family dinner memories associated with them.

But we haven't used them in years. And now they sit in the box for the garage sale.

So now i get to sort out the boxes that are being kept from the garage sale boxes, all of which, for some reason known only to my mother, have been put out in the garage. And disentangle the furniture that is being kept from the furniture underneath it that is being sold. and discover that we still have boxes of G.I. Joes that my brother has forbidden us to sell, labled "G.I Joe Vehicals, Do not OPEN, Do not MOVE, Do not throgh out! This MEANS YOU!!!!" in 9 year old boy handwriting.

To top it all off, there is a chipmunk who has chosen this same moment to make a nest in the back of the garage. Thank you Mrs. Chippy, for making our time in the garage ever so pleasant.

Argh!