I always thought that moving was in the top three on the stress scale.

But I stand corrected: the popular Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale (Google it for the PDF) apparently has it way down the list, unlike, say, the top terrible events such as death of a spouse or divorce.

Down the list or not, let me tell you that moving to a new residence has been quite a challenge for the otherwise-congenial and mutually appreciative relationship enjoyed by my hubby John and me.

Oh, all is still well in marriage-dom, but I have to say that packing his stuff, my stuff, and our stuff gave us a few more grey hairs than we’d anticipated.

To begin with, I’d lived in our old apartment for almost 20 years. John just moved in with me 4.5 years ago. So most of the (substantial!) accumulation of stuff was mine. I simply had to let go of a lot of it, and that was hard, since I tend to cling to (hoard?) things. For starters, I sold my record collection to a used-record-store owner. Yay, 200 records, gone just like that! I hardly ever listened to them anymore, and just about everything is available on YouTube or Spotify now.

Anyway, I won’t drag you through the rest of the triaging and purging and packing and moving and unpacking and placing process. It’s taken well over a month to do it all, and we’re so tired, and we don’t want to drag you down with us… but this can explain why my blogging efforts have been M.I.A. for many weeks.

I must end with a shout-out to our excellent fast and professional movers, BustaMove. Great job, guys! And thanks to my daughter Kathryn for recommending them!

And now, we rest… right after we put up a picture on this wall…  and then… 😁