The Wrap Attack, Creepy Movers, and Harry

 

Cute little bag clips I found during our moving process. Had to get them!

Wow! What a weekend this was! Terry and I are finally in our new home, living among a sea of boxes. The joy of finding which box holds our needed treasures is overwhelming. I'm sure you all know how the moving experience can be. Terry and I also have a fun roommate now, but I will get into Harry's existence later in this post. 

Along with moving into the new home, we wore out the bank card with many purchases of new furniture and household items that are a necessity but still dip into funds. I hate spending money as does Terry. We do share that common trait. But the card shimmered under several fluorescent lights over the past few days. Now the poor blue plastic fund bearing card looks as exhausted as we are. 

The journey began on Wednesday night. After signing the necessary papers, we saw the glimmer of gold as the key was placed into our hands. That's when the race began. Fortunately, the apartment we were staying in lies in front of the house we are moving to. Easy, right? Not so much. 

Wednesday evening the excitement was overwhelming. I began to carry boxes up to the house, figuring each box carried up that night would be less I would have to do later. It all sounded so logical and the excitement I felt was too much to bear. I was anxious to begin the adventure. I carried box after box that night until I wished the moving was over already. 

Terry was immediately calling around in an attempt to hire movers for the heavy items and the larger boxes. Movers? Check. They would be here on Saturday, but it was only Wednesday. Ugh. Insert lack of patience here. I continued the loading and unloading of boxes between the two residences. I figured it was one less box to be carried up the sidewalk, up the stairs and into the house. Slowly I could see a bit of a difference it made. 

My sweet man had his first cataract surgery the following morning. It did go well, and he is now at 20/20 vision in that eye. His final surgery will be next Thursday, the 11th of May. Then he will be "repaired" in terms of eye issues. 

Stopping to eat at the local Denny's after surgery, we enjoyed an early dinner and discussed the surgery, moving, and what we had to look forward to. There is so much going on in the near future! Our move. His two surgeries and then finally, our wedding in June. It has got us jumping, but we are both looking forward to each moment ahead. 

In the meantime, we needed furniture. We went to the furniture store and began purchasing the much-needed items. Couch? Check. Recliner for Terry? Check. I loved our selections! Terry is a tall man with broad shoulders. His daughter, Mallory, and I found the perfect reclining heaven for him in a snuggle recliner. It fits him well and actually makes him look like a young boy it's so large. 

We all loved the couch as well. It's a smaller sectional sofa that is very comfortable and is covered in an easy wash material. My thoughtful, sweet man ordered some coverings for both sections and the chair to protect the pieces from any cat scratch fever of Kit and Bella, our fur babies. We are waiting on that to arrive. 

The movers arrived on Saturday morning. We were up and down in our feelings of the two men who showed up to work. It seemed quite confusing. One minute we liked them and felt for them as workers and as people, the next we wanted to scream and kick them out. Very unprofessional to say the least. 

There were two men. One was an older man who you could barely understand. He spoke very quietly, and it was constant chatter. If you did not comprehend his quiet chat and asked him to repeat it, his voice dropped into an even quieter level. The younger man seemed to be a bit more confident. He spoke in a normal voice and could be heard; however, he disappeared several times and we had no idea where he was. 

Both men headed into the apartment to begin the process. Their eyes took in all the items in the apartment for a moment. Then the older man looked at me and suggested he go get his dolly. Now, I would have thought a mover would have automatically brought along a dolly, but hey, I'm not a mover to know for sure. That is like suggesting a surgeon not bring a scalpel to perform surgery. They headed out and didn't return for about an hour. 

Upon their return, the bed was taken apart and headed out the door. I figured we were on our way to moving this process right along. I asked the eldest of the two if he knew of anyone who could help us pick up the furniture we purchased the day before. He said he could. Terry, Mallory, and I thought it would be very convenient to have the same people moving us also move the new furniture from the store to the new home. They climbed in their pickup and followed us up the street to the furniture store. Now this is where things got interesting. 

Getting out of their truck, they followed Mallory and I into the store. They began to shop as they waited on us. We watched both of them pick up items and place them on the shelf again. We asked a cashier if she could call for help. She asked which area and we replied, "The furniture department." The woman smiled and said the man we were looking for was, "over there," as she pointed to a burly man who was checking out a soda at the self-checkout. 

The man overheard the woman as she told us who he was. Without hesitation, he sternly blurted, "I'm not on shift for another two minutes. I'm on my time." Immediately a sense of "I don't give a shit about you," came over me. I knew then this journey would be fun. I turned and looked at Mallory, wondering if I heard his reply correctly. Apparently, I had heard it in the way I assumed I had. Mallory's face immediately formed into a look of disgust. She was fuming. As I glanced around the store, I saw dumb and dumber still picking up items, looking at them and then placing them back on the shelf. I knew it was going to be a very long day. 

Mr. High and Mighty finished checking out his soda and began the walk to the furniture department. He suggested we follow him. Hot on his heels, he led us into the furniture section. Without a word, the manager of the department disappeared into the back room. He was back there for several minutes before appearing again. Behind him was a man pushing a dolly with the larger portion of our sectional couch. Following that came another dolly holding the second portion of the couch. We all formed a parade of sorts, with our furniture in tow. 

The movers ran, well, walked slowly to the truck, drove it to the front of the store, and waited for the arrival of the recliner as well as the two pieces of couch. Mallory and I stood there in fear, watching as the group of four men tried to shove two large sections of couch and one large recliner box in a regular sized bed of a pickup truck. This was going to be interesting. As the group of men were loading, they were giggling about how the furniture was fitting into the Tetris scenario and how we didn't have insurance on it. That's when the clowns chose to set the two sections of the sofa upright and the recliner box behind them. My heart skipped a beat. Mallory jumped into the conversation and said, "You guys think it's funny, but it's not funny to us." The older man who was moving us said he would meet us back at the apartment and ignored the statement Mallory had made. Either that or he heard it loud and clear but didn't care.

Mallory and I chose to climb in the car and head home. Neither of us wanted to see our new furniture end up on the street. We sat outside under the carport after arriving home and waited for the two men in the truck to bring our prized possessions back in one piece. After about 40 minutes or so, we were really getting nervous. We assumed the furniture had found a new home in the gutter along the main street in Roseburg. 

The green truck came down the alley and pulled into our driveway. We were so excited to see it in one piece. Both men got out and began the hard work of carrying the pieces into the house. The recliner was in, then both pieces of the sofa made it safely. Climbing back into the truck, the two headed out again. But it wasn't for our apartment apparently. We didn't see them for quite some time again. It's a mystery as to where they disappeared to this time. They had informed us they had to stop and get gas which is why it took so long to come back from the furniture store. As a professional, don't you gas up before you go to a client's home? Then make sure you grab the tools you will need to do the job, such as a dolly? Just sayin'. But we moved on. No pun intended. 

As time went on, the older of the two movers began to work finally, after returning from yet another break. What should have taken about three hours was turning into a much longer time period. Terry asked the man if he knew of anyone who could assist us in getting rid of the old couch and recliner. He said he could once again. We offered him about $60 to take the items to the dump. It was $15 for the cost to dump them, and the rest was his. The dump is close in proximity to the house. That would have been $45 free and clear. This was on top of the $800 their boss was given for the job of moving us. He accepted and we went on about our business. 

Mallory and I continued to pack boxes and put them into the new house. We put some stuff away during the trips to the new place, but for the most part the boxes were being delivered and put into various rooms for future examination. We plan on throwing out things as we go through our items, as one typically does during a move. Especially when two people are combining years' worth of items into one household. 

Then the younger of the two movers disappeared, not that this was surprising. I would say he was gone about an hour before returning to help the other man. It was rather strange that he would leave the older mover all alone to work as hard as he was. But everything about these two was odd. As time passed, it was getting tiresome that these two did not have the task completed. 

They were complaining to Mallory about all sorts of things while she was cleaning and picking items up in the apartment. I went into the apartment without knowing they had been griping and asked that they leave everything loose alone. I would pack all of that. Although this was the second time I had informed them of that, they still griped and had to keep the drama going. One of the main gripes was that they had never moved anyone before who had not packed previously. There were some items left out of boxes on purpose for a reason. Those were the pieces I said I would take care of. But things were packed anyway, in any box readily available. 

The fact that they ignored our instructions to leave loose items for us to pack only led to not being able to locate Terry's cochlear gear and hearing aid chargers when he needed them. It took us two days to finally find them in the bottom of a box. We searched through almost every box we had sitting in the office area before we located the right one. 

At the end of the day, Terry had offered the movers a $20 tip. It was the only change he had, and he could not drive to get any more even if he wanted to. With the crappy job they had done, all the breaks they had taken, and on top of the other extra money we had paid them, it was enough anyway. They would still get paid for the moving efforts by their boss. The oldest mover looked at the money Terry had put in his hand. He returned the money to Terry and said, "$20? That is an insult." 

Finally, we were seeing the end of the massive number of boxes having to be moved. It was a beautiful thing. But now came the overwhelming sea of boxes in the new home, along with new furniture to put together. And so, the fun begins ...

Terry headed to work the next day and Mallory and I were trying to put things together and get items set up. We were able to clear a few boxes immediately. I was getting very excited actually, to see things coming together. It gave me hope this would be over soon. But it would take some mountain climbing gear to get over the slopes of an uphill climb. The trouble we were having with various projects put a slight damper on the excitement, yet I refused to give up. First things first. We began with the legs on the couch. 

Now before we could get the legs screwed into the piece of furniture, we had to remove the plastic wrap, the Styrofoam and the box slat on the bottom of the couch. Easy. Grabbed a box cutter and began to slice and dice the cocoon my new couch was in. Mallory lost patience after a slashing moment with the razor blade. She began to pull the plastic, even though it seemed to be pulling back. Eventually she fell into a small room we call "the nook", and the plastic wrap, cardboard slab on the bottom, and the Styrofoam fell on top of her, encasing her entire body in its grasp. 

I believed Mallory was kidding around when she laid underneath the massive mound of package wrap and began flailing her arms and legs yelling, "I am not going to be rebirthed! I refuse to let you win!" I was laying on the couch laughing over the incident. Her legs finally burst through the mass of plastic and cardboard to the point of being able to let me in on the secret that it wasn't a joke. She was actually pinned to the floor by the wrap and the some of the plastic had engulfed her from behind as well. A little panic set in, creating enough adrenaline to push her legs out of the cocoon wrap. That was when she gained enough momentum to untangle herself and come to the surface again. I felt bad that I missed the point that she was actually encased and could not get out. That horrible feeling of being trapped is not a good thing to feel. 

Mallory and I worked on the legs, but we did find them rather difficult. Late afternoon rolled around, and we decided we were just not good enough to get the work done. The task of assembling the furniture was overwhelming. Our landlord stopped by about that time to look at the hot water tank. He told us we could ask a man who lived across the street. We did ask and he agreed to come over. 

Our saving grace was the neighbor. He came over and began work on our couch, assembling it immediately. He informed us that the screwdriver was supposed to be a flathead, not a Phillip's. I grabbed the instructions and found they were saying we needed a Phillip's, so it wasn't only us. The screws were deep inside the legs, making it impossible to see the head to determine it was the wrong screwdriver. With that being said, yes, we should have noticed the head of them before we slipped them deep into the cavern of each leg. But it did make more sense as to why the screws were not going in as well as they should have been. Next up was our dining room set and four chairs. 

The table has a leaf in the center. We removed it and the neighbor began the task of assembling the set. I was getting excited now, as we were seeing movement on the project. He put all four chairs together and the table, taking most of the night. 

As the day was drawing to an end, we sat outside and enjoyed some night air. I went inside the house to put some stuff away while he sat outside enjoying his final cigar of the evening. I saw movement outside and decided to find out what was going on. Terry was walking over to the apartment as I walked out onto the sidewalk. I decided to join him out of curiosity and followed. 

I took a few steps along the sidewalk. Out by the large tree on the other side of the fence, I heard a low, soft voice, "Hello, Vicki." My heart jumped. I lunged to get away from the voice because I was not sure who it was. I turned and looked. It was the older mover. I was genuinely creeped out by his sneak attack. I replied, "Hi," to him, but walked toward the apartment again. Terry came out and informed me the mover had come to ask for his little cart with wheels he uses to help move heavy things. I wasn't shocked that he wanted it but I was definitely shocked that he came up and called my name in a whisper the way he did. 

Terry gave it back to him. I followed behind Terry. He sat down in his chair and began to finish smoking. The mover said, "Vicki, I was ripped off today. My boss won't pay me because I took too long." I apologized that he had to go through that although I was not quite sure why he was telling me. I returned to the house and closed the door behind me, leaving him standing there. The next morning, we found the cart with wheels he left behind sitting in front of the apartment door. I have no idea what that meant, but he apparently seemed to think we needed it back. Not sure if it was in some way an action to pay us back awkwardly or a way to remind us that he was around. It was strange to say the least. 

Harry Joins Our Household

The next day Mallory returned. We were in a giddy mood. Things were getting done and it was awesome. I started in on emptying boxes and putting things away while Terry went to work. As a team, Mallory and I spent the day trying to accomplish as much as possible. Even after a day of going through things, boxes still remain throughout the rooms of the house. Far too soon the evening rolled around. Mallory and I sat outside with Terry after he returned from work and ventured outdoors to smoke his cigar. 

All three of us were laughing, joking, and discussing all the things we couldn't forget to do or purchase for our comfort in the new home. I love having Mallory over! She is going to be my daughter next month (and basically is already) and has been a huge help in this move. My daughters are about an hour and 15 minutes away but are very busy. One was heading to Arizona to watch my granddaughter graduate after four years of hard academic work. Another daughter has just gone through surgery and is healing. The third daughter has her father-in-law to help during the day, plus her daughter to move out of her apartment. It's a busy time!

As we were chatting, Terry looked toward the house and at the basement window. The light for the basement was on. Why? I have no idea. I had not gone into the basement at all. It was not on the night before or we would have noticed. I got up and walked toward the basement door. 

As I approached the basement door, I realized the key was in the "lock" position. I reached out and turned the key ...

I slowly peered around the corner. The light was definitely on. We have one LED light at the top of the stairs and one below in the basement itself. Both are operated by one switch at the top of the stairs, of course. I examined the switch and saw that it was in the "on" position. So, this leads me to believe it is not an electrical issue. I shrugged, turned the light off and closed the door. Maybe someone had gone downstairs earlier and simply forgot. At least it was a feasible and logical assumption. 

The following morning, I was moving things to find a permanent spot for their existence as one does while moving. Waiting on Mallory, I chose to take a fireplace heater downstairs into the basement for storage. We have a forced air heating supply, and it warms the house well, deleting the need for any small heaters. I opened the basement door to begin the descent into the floor below. Lo and behold, the light was on again. 

Now, this began to creep me out a bit. Although if something was going on in the metaphysical sense, at least it wasn't trying to harm us. I walked the items downstairs and took a few moments to look around. 

I stored both heaters on the shelf along the back wall of the basement. As I looked around, everything was looking good. I had been in the basement one other time, and everything looked safe and sound. Typical basement in my opinion. 

While I was in my grandparent's basement as a child, I have never lived in a home with a cellar of any sort. Oregon homes just don't really have a specific need to have them. I love our basement though. The idea of being able to have storage space makes me happy. There is a sump pump in the corner to suck up any water that may travel through the space and carry it outside. It's perfect. 

Other than the hot water heater and the remnants of a very old chimney, the basement is bare. Besides the operational guts of the home, the basement gives me no reason to return except for storage purposes. The antique workbench in the corner will come in handy though! 

Making trips up and down those tiny steps will be avoided as much as possible! In terms of the lights coming on, I have yet to figure it out. The basement walls were nothing but dirt when I first saw the home, but the landlord put up wood walls instead to hopefully deter creatures from coming down into the basement. He also suggested it was mainly for accidental cat escape if our fur babies should get down there somehow. 

There is a small hole in the plywood where the wood was cut to accommodate the pipes. Other than that, the dirt walls were covered. Anyway, the basement was free and clear of anything "creepy" that may be causing light switches to come on and turn back off again, at least as far as I could see in this dimension. 

The three of us were sitting outside again the following night and the lights were on once more. It has happened four out of the five nights we have been here. There have been no attempts to go into the basement by anything human. Terry doesn't get near it, and I know for a fact Mallory has not disappeared long enough to turn them off or on. We have been so busy and exhausted that I forget about the basement, the lights, and Harry. After turning the lights off for the fifth time, it has become a joke to us. I have dubbed our roommate Harry. He is welcome in the house too, as long as he doesn't try to harm us. It's been a long, strange week! 

We had our items put together by the neighbor. The sea of boxes is beginning to dissipate. Our new patio set is sitting outside, all put together and ready to enjoy. We got the new washer and dryer too. Now it was time for the Wi Fi setup. This I know how to do. Simple, right? Oh, not in my life. 

I grabbed the coaxial cable, plugged it all into the wall and the back of the modem. Good to go. Grabbing the ethernet cable, I snapped one end into the modem and one into the router. Good to go. Lights were coming on, flashing and looking pretty. I still could not get our network to come up. Are you kidding me? I stood up and bumped the little table the router and modem sat on. A little nudge and boom! The corner of the router came down and smacked my toe. 

The fetal position can be a healthy, comforting position. Especially when pain is shooting through you. It is a great way of getting to know yourself again. OMG, I never knew a toe had so many nerve endings in it! The throbbing was unbelievable. Everything on my entire leg hurt. I saw my life flashing before my eyes. I could hear Harry laughing. I've never wanted my mommy so badly. 

Yes, my skin is dry. I wear flip flops all the time. But the bruise. Did you see the bruise? I had reverted back to childhood during the shooting of pain through my foot and leg. It's times like this when you impress yourself with the slur of curse words that come out of your mouth. Thank God I do not have any small children around anymore. 

Hobbling around, I was able to complete the installation. Finally. Internet is up and running. TV stand was put together, along with the 65-inch TV being unboxed and carefully placed on the stand. All was beginning to come together to make a home. As you've read in other blog posts, Terry and I love to eat dinner and watch an episode or two of our show, The Mentalist. Now we can do that, and we were happy. 

The next morning proved to be more of the same. The basement light was on. Harry was up and moving. But we had no hot water. The landlord installed a brand-new water heater in the basement. God knows how the man got it into that cellar with those stairs, but he managed somehow. Now the concern was why there was no hot water. He turned it up the day before at my request. I love doing my dishes in scalding hot H2O. It was definitely hot. Beyond belief hot. The hot water heater had apparently kicked off or something the following morning or Harry decided he didn't like the hot water heater doing its job. 

He came over and reset it, then turned the temperature down a bit. After testing it, the temp was fine. That is until the morning when I turned the faucet on and freezing cold water came pouring out. He returned but this time he brought reinforcements. The electricians took a look. They found a part that was loose. That was fixed and I thought life was good again. Morning rolled around and after turning off Harry's light one more time, the hot water heater was not giving me hot water. The poor landlord had to call the place he purchased the unit and battle it out with them. The thought was to pull the water heater up from the basement (God help that poor man), and then return with a new one to install. I suggested we turn it down again and try one more time. 

Apparently, Harry left it alone overnight. I woke up this morning and voila! Hot water. Just the way it should be. Just the temp I like. We began the move on Wednesday of last week. We are now on Friday, nine days later. The home is being pieced together slowly. But all of our furniture, clothes, artwork and pictures hung don't create our home. The project was not finished until Terry, Mallory, and I sat around, relaxing and talking. That was the energy that created a home for us. Family. Love. Sharing. 

Terry and I were able to sit in the new recliner and on the couch last night. We turned on the TV for the first time and enjoyed our show. I made him his favorite meal of calamari and a veggie, while I dined on mac and cheese and a salad. This. This is what I call home. My sweet man and I still have a way to go. Harry is all settled in. We are settling. Terry had his second eye surgery yesterday and that is healing well. We have our family, we have our health, and most of importantly, we have our love for each other. Life is good in the Macrae house. Harry is a bonus. And so life goes ...