Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful. – William Morris
Three men and a truck were expected around noon. The morning was mine to get organized – labelling boxes, pulling furniture and suitcases out of the container, taking stock. And taking stock is when it hit me: there is so much more here than I’d remembered. Nine years in a container will do that.
Also hitting me this morning – the sky. Sunny and clear. Not the rainy disaster that had been forecast. Small miracle.
The other thing I noticed, pulling everything out into the light – nine years in storage and it all looks great. Every piece. That alone felt worth celebrating.
When the truck pulled up, three men did not step out. Six did. Six! They were efficient, professional and almost impossibly fast. Everything loaded in 60 minutes. Everything unloaded at the Stratford house in another 60. And then, just like that – the men and the truck were gone.
We stood in the house surrounded by our life. So much stuff. So. Much. Stuff.
Grateful for the sunny day that wasn’t supposed to happen, for six guys who made the whole thing look easy and perhaps most of all, for a bed at maoVee to sleep in while we figure out what to do with all of it tomorrow.
