House of Boxes

I am living in a house full of boxes. Empty boxes. Full boxes. Made of cardboard. Empty boxes, stacked flat against the wall, waiting to be filled. Full boxes stacked wherever there is a bit of free space, waiting to be moved to the new house and there eventually being emptied again.

So the contents of our house is being moved through these  boxes. At least the lucky part. The not so lucky items get sorted out. Some go directly to the bin. Some wait to get transported to the recycling facility (broken electronics, anything with batteries in…) . Some get distributed to friends and relations (clothes/toys the boys have grown out of…). At some I look and say softly: “What will it be? Are you in or out?” Sometimes the item in question manages to look so endearing and cute that I decide (against better knowledge), to transfer it to the moving boxes instead of the bin. With a bit of a bad conscience (I do want to de-clutter, I really do), with the faint excuse that I can still decide what to do with it when unpacking at the new house. Knowing very well that the chance of throwing it away there are slight. (The item knows that too. I can hear it sniggering inside the box.)

In the meantime look around for more space to put some boxes. (I know this goes without saying, but they really do need much more space when filled than flat!) You can stack only so many of them on top of each other until the whole construction gets wobbly. Three are absolutely fine. I give it a try and decide four works well too. But I am a bit hesitant to put a fifth on top, if only because it is hard to heave them up. Some of them are quite heavy (Yes, I know you are not supposed to fill them to the rim with books. I hardly ever do. But even the soft things I put on top of the books seem to have some sort of weight, strangely. It kind of adds up.)

So instead of shelves filled with books and lots of other stuff, I now have empty bookshelves with rows of cardboard boxes in front of them. And two boxes next to the bathroom door. No, make it three, I put another one up there this afternoon. And three in older boy’s room. Luckily he does not complain (so far). I can’t put any boxes in little one’s room, because there is no space. (That’s one reason why little one is so keen on this move: he will get a much bigger room!) I could put some boxes next to the wardrobe. Just need to figure out where to put the sports bags that occupy the space now. Hmm. They are not so heavy. I could put them on top of the boxes, couldn’t I? I wonder how many boxes I can stack there – the wardrobe should give them extra stability. Will see…

(And by the way: What is the answer to any question asked in this house starting with “Where is…?” – Correct. The answers is: “Probably in one of the boxes.” If I only knew in which one. But I am sure I will remember in time for unpacking. Almost sure. Hope the funny little stickers I put on the boxes won’t fall off.)

 

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4 thoughts on “House of Boxes

  1. I know the feeling. Days before we moved a this apartment last year, we had to maneuver around boxes! And I get so frustrated when I need something that I have already placed inside one of the boxes. I also had to let go a lot of things because some of the things I thought were so cute just did not make sense anymore and were just adding to the things we had to pack. All those that weren’t sold at the garage sale were given away. felt much much better!

    • Just today we got a letter from the phone company. And I needed to find the original contract – which, of course, was already in one of the boxes! Aaargh! I really hate it having to open up one of them again! They are not supposed to be opened before they are in the new house! And there I was, searching for this stupid piece of paper. Luckily it was in the third box I opened. 😉

  2. Choosing, it’s a hard call whether packing or unpacking is worse. But it’s certain that neither one is fun!
    We moved into our new home a few weeks before leaving for Russia (1996) to adopt our youngest two children, siblings aged 6 and almost 9 years. Besides packing for my husband, me,and our new children, and all the ‘gifts’ requested by each person who had to stamp or sign a paper, we (meaning me) had to unpack the boxes. I didn’t want our new children to think we lived out of boxes.

    • Wow, that sounds like a lot of work! But sometimes the timing just isn’t ideal and a lot of things happened at the same time. I am sure you made a nice welcoming home for them!

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