I think that I reported in these precincts that I was moving. It all came about rather suddenly - Sunday afternoon I saw an open house sign for one of the two 2-bedroom units on my floor, went and inspected and liked. Monday evening my bid was accepted. One week later, my own unit was sold (8 days and 3hr after me seeing the open house sign). The closing was fairly prompt - I took possession of 2108 on 1 June, and 2101 was sold on 15 June.
So that's what yr panda has been doing for the last few weeks.
Some of you (particularly those who are Winnie-the-Pooh fans) know that my home is known as The Wolery. Owl's previous home was The Chestnuts (an old-world residence of considerable charm, but not (as it turned out) great high-wind stability). Now 2101 did not blow over, nor did Piglet have to be hoisted to the letterbox with a piece of string tied about his waist, but I did have some friends help me in the moving process on various days. Roo did NOT refer to my bath sponge as a "spudge".
Wednesday 1, I took Jeremiah (my rubber duckie) along to The Wolery >from The Chestnuts. Since grad school, fifteen moves ago, that's how I've marked new territory. There was a pre-scheduled get-together at The Chestnuts that evening, so I marched 'em all down the hall to admire the new space that evening.
Thursday, David came by and doors were primed.
Friday, my sister Ch'kai came by, her housewarming prezzie to me being a shampooing of all rugs. Bro-in-law and I went to Homo Depot, and new closet organisers were installed. They also left several wheeled vehicles, which were of infinite use in the upcoming days.
Saturday, the first of the painting stuff -- Bonnie got most of the doors done, and by the (late) end of the day, the bedroom was finished -- border gone, bottle-green walls primed and now blue.
Over the next week, I spent every evening at The Wolery, painting. When it became clear I wouldn't get it all done, the bathrooms and later the kitchen got sacrificed - on the principle that there's minimal furniture moving in (and thus, needing to be re-moved at paintbrush time). But the rest was duly done (and I wimped out on the 2nd bedroom -- the reason for all the fuss -- I didn't do anything creative for the New Decorating Challenge, just slapped on the same celadon green as the living room.) barely in time for the furniture to move.
That was Saturday 11. There were 27 items of furniture, from dressers to bed to bookshelves. The worker bees were very industrious, and all of that stuff moved by 6pm, all 57 steps down the corridor. Since the bed had travelled along the corridor, I guess I moved from The Chestnuts to The Wolery on the eleventh. That's certainly where I slept Saturday night and since.
The phone moved in the early hours of Wednesday 8th, but not everything moved with the land line. If that's busy/not answering, incoming calls are spozed to bounce to my cell, and if that doesn't answer, to my Ma Bell call answering service. The cellphone got cut out of the loop in the move, and it took eleven phone calls to Ma Bell, talking to 17 of her minions over nine days and for a grand total of 3h25 min to get it sorted out (with the call-answer cutting in and out in the latter days of the ongoing struggle). This was of course during the time that I needed the service most, since my phoneline was in one venue, but I was liable to be elsewhere, though in the building. It seems to be holding for the present, but it hasn't been a week yet, so I'm not counting on it. (the annoying part will be at the bill -- the bounce-to-the-cell service costs all of $3 per month, so I'll get a credit of somewhere around 85cents for all that hassle. Grrrrr)
I took Friday 10, Monday 13 and Tuesday 14 off (as "holiday"), and didn't get my home computer hooked up until Toozday lunchtime -- by which point I'd been offline since Thursday, and had 879 stacked emails. 124 of them were *not* processed luncheon byproduct, so catching up took some time. But not too much, as The Chestnuts still needed final emptying and cleaning.
On one of the gang-of-helpers painting days, the circuit breaker for the bathrooms kept popping, and distinct short-circuit noises were being made. Fortunately, one of the worker bees that day was Ken (who is moving in upstairs), who is a professional electrician by trade. After some cursory tests, he assured me (I wasn't about to gainsay him) that this was beyond a laypersons's ability to fix. Fortunately I know a professional ... He came by a few days later, and eventually the problem was found in the decidedly odd wiring for the bathroom(s)/ dryer exhaust fan. It now works on one switch (of the three previous candidates, but it works); and the ensuite bathroom is without a light fixture, as it got removed in the process-of-elimination finding of the problem. I'm not broken hearted, it was singularly hideous and has been discarded. I just need to purchase a replacement, and Ken will install it when he does the fan wiring (and removes a singularly ghastly black ceiling fan and light fixture in the bedroom -- free to a good home, any ceiling fan fans out there).
Dust is clearly a force of the universe. I think that's a corollary of the third law of thermodynamics (randomness always increasing). The top of the sideboard has a watermark on it, so a tablecloth sits atop permanently. Said tablecloth hadn't moved in seven years, but there was a thin film of dust UNDERNEATH, that had managed to penetrate the weave of the textile. And of course the dust-bunnies under dressers and the bed were scary - almost to the point of needing a chair and a whip. But they're gone now.
Tuesday morning I went to Harvey-my-lawyer's, with keys, and signed papers (only 11 times -- the purchase took 15 signatures).
In the evening of Tuesday 14 I did a final check around, and moved stuff from the 2101 locker to the 2108 locker (they're metal straps and steel wire cages)- discovering to my great glee that the former is six feet long, the latter ten feet. It too will doubtless get ram-stam full in the next few weeks as I try to organise my life again. I then took the last key to the concierge and left it with him for the new owners, at 23:50; rather pleased with my timing.
Wednesday 15 Harvey phoned with news of successful closing. These days, they don't have to line up at the registry office -- it's done on line. When finances in place, the vendor's lawyer enters a code to permit the pruchaser's lawyer to transfer title on the registry website. Technology is everywhere. But I did go by to collect a bank draft for the monies owed moi once various things paid off. Pausing only to get a photocopy for evidence (it'll be a generation of inflation before another cheque payable to me with six digits is issued), I took it the old fashioned way to the bank to cut back on my indebtedness to them. Felt odd - more than half my net worth (including pension assets), right there on a wee bit of paper.
Sometime last Sunday (12th, not yesterday) my glasses beamed up. I took 'em off before painting, and have not seen them since. I know they're at The Wolery, coz The Chestnuts was closely inspected; but I can't get any more specific than that. I'm now accepting book on when they will stop lurking and re-emerge. Meanwhile, an old (rather scratched) pair sits on my nose, and I squint.
There are still boxes EVERYwhere, and I'm not sure where the dozen boxes still in storage at Don's apartment (where they've been since I had to clean up The Chestnuts for open-house and sale). There is no broom closet. The washer/dryer is about 10cm too long for the cubbyhole built for it, and project out the front. This means the folding door initially installed to conceal the cubby is now down in the aforementioned locker, and the chief decorative feature of my hall is the laundry machine. [I think a screen will be constructed for that]. Half of the kitchen stove doesn't heat up [and I'm rather annoyed with my agents for not putting in a "good operating order" clause in the offer]. The stove and the fridge being 18y old, I think (while I'm busy spending money like water) I'll replace them. On looking around the apartment, I realised that the only place that is pretty much in "final form" tidiness and order is the inside of said fridge.
But it's home. The views are spectacular - all of downtown, the (surprisingly green) city off to the east and Scarborough, the harbour, the islands, the lake beyond, and the south shore of the lake by Grimsby and St Catharines, and the Niagara escarpment behind. Off to the south-east, the lake stretches to the horizon (behind which is Rochester NY).
It's my space, and in time (months? Years?) I'll have it organised and the boxes put away. And next time I move, it'll be to the senior's residence.
And that's the scoop from yr panda, who has still to do Pride
Week stuff, printing handouts, and finding (somewhere in 23
cartons)/ editing and reburning CD soundtrack for the pride
parade float
