Current status: boxed in

I'm almost completely surrounded by boxes now. Everywhere I look I've got boxes packed and stacked. Let's just hope they're under the estimated weight. I think the home estimate guy estimated approx. 33 boxes @ 25 lbs/box. My goal should be to stick to that limit, and not go over (on weight or number).


Which reminds me, I finally settled on a mover.
Bluebird (an agent of North American Van Lines) was by far the cheapest, quoting me about $60/100lbs. At first I wasn't impressed, but the more I compared this moving company with the other two, Tippet-Richardson and Hudson's Movers, the better Bluebird looked. I'm not sure why there's a difference - hopefully it'll be no more than the difference between "service with a smile" to "service with a surly guy". It doesn't matter, I've made my decision and now I have to fear the worst or hope for the best. I'll let you know how it goes.

I have to say I'm quite pleased with myself. I've done my homework when it comes to movers. I got home estimates from 3 different moving companies (it would've been 4 had AMJ Campbell returned my 2 calls!). I've spoken to people who have moved recently to hear what they had to say about the process. I've learned how to read estimates - the rates per hundred-weight, the surcharges, and extra fees. I've asked all the right questions. And, I've looked at the Consumer Protection Act, specifically the section where I'm guaranteed my estimate within 10%.

I'm all set.

Current status: upheaval

As many of you know by now, I'm in the middle of a move. A big move. I'm leaving the big smoke for the bonny shores of Nouvelle-Ecosse. And though I'm looking forward to being "home" again and closer to my family, this move is proving to be rather traumatic. Not only am I saying goodbye to the dear friends I've made here and my church family (who really are like a family to me), but I'm leaving my comfortable and conveniently located apartment, the amenities I have at my fingertips, and the city I have come to know as "home" for the last seven years. It's all a little surreal.

On top of the emotional upheaval, is the physical upheaval. I have to pack and move all my stuff 1100 kilometres. And hiring movers is proving to be no easy task! I've had 3 quotes, each of them wildly different in their own ways. The cheapest I had originally scratched off the list, but is now back on the list because ...well because he's the cheapest. Deciding between the three is really tricky. What can go wrong, what will go wrong, and how much will it cost me - those are all the questions I need to consider before I commit to one.

Packing is relatively easy, and slightly theraputic. Boxing and labelling your life puts things into perspective, particularly when you literally have to weight the value of it. "Is this worth the cost of its weight to move?" And then there's the purging. I've literally purged an entire closet of clothes. For the last 1.5 years I've spread my wardrobe out into my two bedroom closets. I've now condensed my clothes into one (and feeling quite pleased with myself for doing so). Then there's the load of "junk" I've accumulated over the years that's destined for my church yardsale, including the particle board/laminate/assemble-yourself furniture I've acquired to store the junk. That's not going with me either. I can make do without it.

And last but certainly not least. There's the next big hurtle - finding a new home. This reminds me so much of one of my favourite books as a child "Home for a bunny" by Margaret Wise Brown.

Read it.

So dear friends scoped out a few places for me, which is so very kind and thoughtful. But I have to say none of them really hit me as being "home". I have to resign myself to being content with one of them, at least for a short while (for a 4 month summer sublet), and then find a more permanent place to settle. A home for this bunny.

Alarmed

...Twice in one night...

So the good thing about having wireless in my ground floor apt. is that when fire alarms go off in my building, I'm able to take my laptop, pick up a signal, and blog outside in the damp cold morning air while we wait for the "okay" from the firemen.

The alarm went off at 5:30 this morning, waking me and Millie out of the dead of sleep. Naturally Millie dodges for the deepest darkest corner under the bed, so it's a struggle to reach her, and naturally I'm incredibly grumpy, particularly since this is the second time this has happenend in the last 12 hours and it's for no reason at all except that the connections in the panel are damp (so my landlady says).
I've been in this building for nearly 5 years now, and this is the first time I've ever heard the firealarm go off. I'm a little glad to know that it does actually work because, I'll admit, I did have my doubts. It's also good to know that the fire engines show up fairly quickly - though I suppose they ought to with the station being so close on Yorkville! 9 firemen arrived at our building, though only 6 actually left the trucks to check things out.
I have to tell you, too, the firealarm is piercing! Poor little Millie's ears. I mean it's nice having an alarm that will get me up immediately out of the dead of sleep (very little could!), but does have to be SO loud. Betty informed me it was 80 decibels, but I think it was louder - 80 decibels is normal city traffic sounds, this was much louder than that - so loud my ears hurt, and are still ringing half an hour later. And right by my front door is the loudest. I really should have ear protection! And who knows what kind of damage it's doing to Millie's ears. Certainly it must hurt.

Oh yeah, and the other thing about waking up to an alarm...being evacuated in your pajamas. The idea is to get out as fast as possible, I know. And by the time I get Millie from out of the deep recesses under my bed, I've already wasted a lot of time. The fact is, if this had been a real fire, and the building was actually burning, I might have been left with only the clothes I was wearing - and those would've been my lobster pajamas.

Okay, so we've got the "all clear" - now what do I do, it's 6am and my alarm clock has now gone off. Do I try to grab a few more moments of sleep? Or do I take a shower and get ready for the day? Oh the dilemmas!

Let's hope the alarm doesn't go off again during the day....