A rush of blood to the head provoked a moment of unpacking a box (I still have many from moving last year). Not just any box, but the large, misshapen box of random and unrelated items sitting in an ugly mess in my studio. Goodness knows how paper bags, fabric garden decorations, kids airline bags, souvenirs from a trip to France five years ago and a specimen jar (unused) ended up in the same box … along with a bra that I’ve been looking for since moving! Mine is not question why, but to rejoice in the miraculous reappearance.
The last of three trips of things from under the old house had a trailer filled with furniture, a large bag of rubbish and some cinder blocks. We didn’t need to unpack, just to take the trailer off the car so I can nip off to work tomorrow. Thinking (foolishly) that it was balanced, I straddled one of the front bars and pulled it off the towball, which shot me into the air and left me suspended off the ground like a performer in a removalist circus act. Lucky I was holding firmly onto the handle or I may have been catapulted over the fence. Twas quite hilarious for both me and my young helper. In hindsight, there is no doubt that the blocks in the back of the trailer were significantly heavier than the furniture in the front.
My house is still a pile of boxes that need unpacking and sorting (it’s only been 6 months since I moved!) and I will confess that the mess is becoming more irritating as the weeks roll by. Mostly because I spend so much time looking for things. Small things, big things, old things, new things, important things and trivial things. I swear I went through every box (some of them twice) looking for my business cards and just when I was about to give up in a cloud of grumpiness, I found the magic box sitting quietly in a corner. In addition to finding the sought after cards, I found two hundred dollars in a pencil case. Hurrah for the joy that the chaos delivers!