Okay, so we're moved. Mostly. Tomorrow is when we take the last few carloads of stuff to the new place and clean up the old place.
I'm beat. The warning on Michele's punching bag says "Injuries including paralysis or death may result from using this equipment." That's no lie. By the time we got that sucker on the truck, off the truck, and up the stairs, I almost had a stroke.
It took five trips with a ten-foot truck to move this time. We had seven of Michele's classmates helping us and it took eight hours. After that we had chili and beer.
I am getting ready to sleep with a vengeance.