Moving is Fun.

Q. Is moving one of the seven circles of hell?

A. yes

We are selling our duplex in West Seattle. My sister, brother-in-law and I have been living in this little slice of heaven for 7 years. I have the upstairs unit and they have the downstairs one. This living arrangement has worked beautifully for us and part of me is a little sad about the upcoming change. The other part is really excited to have a separate room for all my crafts and jewelry making stuff not to mention a garage.

As part of the moving ritual, we cleaned out the basement last weekend. To sum up the experience, we (and by we, I mean my sweet bro-in-law) took 1200 lbs of crap to the dump. Guess what that didn’t include? About 60 cans of paint. Seriously. Who has this much paint in their house? I mean beside us apparently. It was a veritable timeline of color. I am curious as to which tenant thought royal blue was a suitable color for the interior walls of our house and why said tenant needed 6 cans of it. The peach could only be from the 80’s…which decade claims the weird greens and purples is a mystery.

The best part of cleaning out the basement was finding my first diary. This powder blue gem contains my earliest recorded feelings and impressions. Bottom line…I really liked writing about two things: cursing and rating the boys in my third grade class. I don’t remember having such a sailor- like grasp on cursing but boy, oh boy, did I ever let loose in that diary. Things have changed over the years, I’ve stopped writing in diaries, there aren’t any boys to rate at work but I still savor a good curse. I just don’t feel the need to write them out anymore.