Dec. 20, 1995, Wednesday. Dear Diary -- Finally, we have a house,
a real detached house! After the fire last January destroyed the townhouse next to
ours and badly damaged ours, it's been a year-long hassle of living in an apartment
while the damage was repaired. But now we finally have a place to call our own
again! Deciding to sell the rebuilt townhouse rather than return to it was a good
idea; it didn't take long to find a buyer. The downside is we don't take
possession of our new house until January 15th. The sellers say they need the time
to pack for a move to El Salvador. Oh, well, moving over the Christmas holiday
would not be fun anyway.
# # # #
Jan. 7, 1996, Sunday. Dear Diary -- Uh, oh...it's snowing and it
looks like it's going to be the *big one* all the weather people have been saying
we'd get this winter. I'll make the calls to change all the services over next
week. Hope the snow won't be a problem!
# # # #
Jan. 8, 1996, Monday. Dear Diary -- The snow will be a
problem -- a big problem. We got about two feet of it! It finally stopped
this afternoon and we dug out both cars. After we finished, we took a stroll
around the apartment complex parking lot to check out how our neighbors were
doing/had done -- kind of a critique on digging cars out. People had done a good
job with a variety of implements, shovels being almost a rarity. Buckets and
recycling bins (which are about bucket size) were very popular as were brooms,
dustpans, and wastepaper baskets. One cleared space left us in admiration; the
only implements in evidence were a broom and a spackling knife! On the other hand,
there were cars that will probably not be driven until spring. Some of them had so
much snow piled on and in front of them, they became part of the snowy landscape.
At every 'snow sculpture', we speculated as to if there was a car beneath it. It
may take some time to find out.
# # # #
Jan. 16, 1996, Tuesday. Dear Diary -- We didn't get the house
yesterday as planned due to snow complications; the sellers didn't finish up until
late, so we did final inspection this morning. At the end, they presented us with
their keys -- front door, garage door, and master bedroom -- labeled in Spanish.
The first service to be connected was the phone, so we put ours in. But when no
one showed by late afternoon, I tried the connection and found it still active; it
turned out that the former owners had asked to be disconnected on the 17th rather
than today. When I told Rich, his reply was, "Hello, South Africa!" A few minutes
later the phone rang and when I answered a woman said, "I'm having trouble with my
five-minute yogi." Yes, she gave the right phone number -- the former owners.
# # # #
Jan. 17, 1996, Wednesday. Dear Diary -- Today we were scheduled
to be re-united with all of our possessions, which have been in storage for over a
year. The movers were scheduled to arrive at 10am this morning, but at 9am we got
a call at our apartment from the movers; they were already at our house! When we
got there, there was a huge van and a dump truck in our driveway (did I mention
that our street is still only one lane wide due to the snow?), so we parked in a
snow bank and rushed in. It's a good thing we got there when we did. They were
going to just leave things in the garage and take off. We protested, so they moved
all the boxes into the house and basement, then left to go after the rest. Before
they went, I asked why they brought a dump truck; it's just one of the workers
usual transportation, that's all.
It wasn't until late afternoon when
our furniture appeared, and we weren't happy with what we saw. Our oak dining room
table had a large gash across the top, the coffee table was also gouged and had
some kind of black stain, two of our dressers had drawers damaged from careless
handling, the mattress and box springs were wet and smelled bad, and everything was
a bit grimy. We were not pleased, but it was too late to do anything but go back
to the apartment and continue packing so we could leave there by Saturday. Before
they left, the movers said they would be back tomorrow morning by 10am with all
remaining 'odds and ends' (i.e., televisions, VCRs, the stereo; you know, things
like that).
# # # #
Jan. 18, 1996, Thursday. Dear Diary -- Well, what else can
happen? We arrived at the house this morning, and the doorbell ran just after 10am.
It was a policeman. About fifteen minutes earlier, there had been an incident
where a red car had almost hit a kid at the middle school just down the block from
here. Someone had witnessed it, and the car's license plate was traced to the
people who used to own our house. (Luckily for us, our car is blue.) We gave the
police officer their forwarding address, and as he sauntered off, we could only
shake our heads in wonder.
So, with that excitement over with,
we settled in to wait for the movers and the cable television installer. Well, the
cable guy showed up, but the movers didn't. When I finally called the company,
they said, "Oh, didn't we call you? They couldn't get a truck today." No, we
didn't get a call, they must have called our now-disconnected number at the
apartment instead. Sheesh! Anyway, they promised to deliver the next day.
# # # #
Jan. 19, 1996, Friday. Dear Diary -- I cleaned the apartment
while Rich went to the house to meet the movers. They did manage to show up on
time with the rest of our stuff. The old mattress and box springs are totally
unusable, so until the new ones arrive tomorrow we're sacking out in sleeping bags
tonight. The cats will be intrigued, I'm sure.
# # # #
Jan. 20, 1996, Saturday. Dear Diary -- We got our new mattress
and box springs and the old smelly ones got hauled away. Good riddance! We
finished cleaning the apartment and moved out the last of our things except for a
bookcase too big to get into the car. A friend with a station wagon will help out
tomorrow. By late afternoon, we were finally out of the apartment for good, and in
to our house. Home at last!
# # # #
April 1996, Postscript -- We're still settling in. We still don't have much
furniture; most of the old was given away, and some of the new is on back order.
The oak table and some of the other damaged items (including three Hugo Awards)
were repaired by an expert furniture restoration company, much to our relief.
Meanwhile, we're still emptying boxes. We never did find two sets of dinnerware
and had to buy new ones, and there are other things missing as well that we will
want reimbursement for. We still have most of our fannish stuff, such as the
mimeos and back issues of Mimosa. But life goes on, as this issue proves, and
we'll see you next issue!
Title illustration by Sheryl Birkhead
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