This morning felt uncannily like Sept. 1 all over again. There we were, parked in front of our apartment complex garage with a U-Haul truck, chatting up a forgetful octogenarian. The only difference? We were loading the truck instead of unloading it. Oh, and it was about 60 degrees colder.
There’s that David Byrne song again. Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.
Eat Your Heart Our, Robin Leach
A couple of weeks ago, Tara came up with the bright idea of renting a U-Haul trailer to take some of the bigger items in the garage over to our new house. It’s an in-town move and just a few miles each way, so it made perfect economical sense. But then we had sleet, followed by freezing drizzle, and – the icing on the three-layer cake, if you will – topped with snow. Towing and navigating a trailer would have been a dicey proposition. Then, Tara came up with the even brighter idea of renting a 15′ truck instead of a trailer.
“We won’t have to drive to Nebraska to pick it up, will we?” I asked. Guess that wound is still fresh.
Luckily, the trip only took us five minutes this time versus three hours. We’d originally planned to do the move on Saturday, but decided to wait a day given the treacherous road conditions. This turned out to be a good plan.
I’d already had my share of ice. Friday, I loaded up my car with smaller items from the garage and made a couple of trips to the house. But our driveway is steep and was a solid sheet of ice. I salted it as best I could, but it was so slick, when I got to the top I began sliding backwards. I didn’t panic and somehow managed to stay on my feet. You can see my “tracks” below.
Kinda funny in retrospect, but not so much in the moment. I was sure I was going to fall on my ass and maybe break a bone or two.
At that point, I decided to turn on the heated driveway. I did mention that feature previously, right? The guy doing our inspection said they are so rare, the only houses he’s ever seen with them are million-dollar mansions. I can only surmise that, given their advancing years and the steep slope of the driveway, Dick and Carol decided to dip into their kids’ inheritances and have one installed. I have to admit I was pretty skeptical that it would even work, but within 90 minutes, it had loosened up about 2″ of solid ice enough for me to be able to attack it with a shovel.
Gotta admit, I was impressed. We had about an inch of snow Friday night, so we turned it on again Saturday morning and it melted it all. No shoveling required. It seems a little over-the-top in a Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous kind of way, but I’m not complaining. That thing is going to be a godsend.
Instead of emptying our garage yesterday, we ran to Home Depot and Target for paint and supplies and started on those projects. Thank god we got samples for some of the colors we were unsure of, because as much as I like flamingos, I do not want a pink basement. This was supposed to be closer to a brick red.
The house is obviously a work in progress and will be for some time, but that’s why we have this nice little overlap between our lease and mortgage.
Eek! A Mouse!
This morning we grabbed breakfast and then picked up our U-Haul bright and early. I’m sure our neighbors didn’t appreciate the noise, but c’est la vie. That’s apartment livin’ for you. Nancy, our elderly neighbor who once confused a garden trowel for a potato masher and is a confessed hater of trees, naturally came over to talk. She was surprised we were moving and happy to hear we had bought a house, even though we have told her these things twice already. Poor Nancy. She kept offering to help, but the woman is 81 years old. Did she really think we were going to have her schlepping 50-lb. boxes up the ramp of a U-Haul?!
We ended up making two trips to the house in about five hours, filling the truck both times. We made a pretty good dent in the garage, too; a lot of what’s left can be shuttled over in our cars, and we’re hiring two movers for a couple of hours to take the biggest, heaviest items over.
There was only one little hiccup we had to contend with. As we started sorting through our belongings, we noticed evidence of mice. This is really just a polite way of saying there was mouse shit all over. They’d gotten into a bag of black oil sunflower seed we’d stupidly stored away. Even worse, they made themselves right at home. Chewed through a bunch of books and clothes, making little nests. And then when we pulled open the drawer of a nightstand, we found the little rodent asshole culprit.
When Tara saw the mouse, she let out a high-pitched shriek. Followed a moment later by another one. I was so stunned by this turn of events, I burst out laughing. What a cliché, right? Screaming over the sight of a mouse is like slipping on a banana peel. It’s something you only ever see in a movie. I certainly didn’t expect it from my wife, who is as strong-willed and badass as they come. I’m surprised she didn’t leap atop a chair or try to swat it with a broom or something.
Isn’t it great how, after nearly 10 years of marriage, your partner can still surprise you?
At one point the damn mouse started climbing up the wall of the garage. I didn’t even know they could do that! I chased it into the canvas cover of my smoker. Perfect! I grabbed the cover and marched outside to the middle of the parking lot, confident that I’d finally outwitted the stupid varmint. I shook out the cover, he fell to the ground…
…and immediately made a beeline right back into our garage. Never mind the little patch of woods he could have scampered off into. We ran after the asshole, but who knows where he ended up. Final tally:
Mouse: 1
Mark: 0
Sadly, we had to throw a bunch of things away. Some paperback books, blankets, clothing, bedding, even our giant sock monkey.
It’s best if you don’t ask.
Mouse terrorist aside, the move went pretty well. Sure, I’m sore, but not nearly as much as I was following our move from Rapid City. There are no muscle sprains this time, so that’s a step in the right direction.
Lots of work still to do, of course. We plan to head over to the house every day after work this week, mostly painting. We need to get that done before the flooring is installed, approximately six weeks out. The nice thing is, once all the painting is finished, we can move in any time.
Trust me, spending hours at the house and then coming home to this tiny subterranean apartment with rodent-infested garages and tree-despising neighbors on the verge of dementia isn’t going to cut it for long.
Mark My Words 
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