Guess how many of them actually showed?
Yeah. So today I'm calling the Sallies. I will arrange for them to collect stuff, and just leave it in the carport for them. I have ceased to care and I just want it gone. I considered the Hospice shop, I would prefer to use the Hospice shop, but I know that the Sallies will collect and I'm at the end of my rope.
[EDIT] I called the Petone Hospice shop on the off-chance and they do collect. So now I'm rapt that I actually got to give something back, as well as them doing me yet another favour.
On the upside, we got all the big stuff from Mum's yesterday, thanks in no small part to the help of the wonderful Dr Wheel.
So now my house looks like this:
This is the lounge. In the right background of the second picture you can see the new dresser thing that we collected from Mum's. Some folks would call it a dutch dresser, others would call it a hutch dresser, still others would call it a welsh dresser. It doesn't matter, apparently they are all words for the same thing. I'm going to call it a hutch dresser because that's what my Dad called them.
Anyway, it's 2.1m high, and solid timber, and it's DAMN HEAVY. Seriously, it's close to one of the heaviest items I've ever had to shift, and that includes those old washing machines that had the big block of concrete in the bottom of them. And here's where the female privilege comes in. You see, in that situation (one woman, one man, one large and heavy piece of furniture), it's guaranteed that I will not have to go on the heavy end. This is common sense. Much as it grates me, men are generally stronger than women, so it makes sense for the stronger of the two to take the heavier end. Thing is, I probably could lift the heavy end, but I'm also very glad I didn't have to - it was getting close to the limit of what I could successfully lift* and to play furniture tetris with it would have risked damage to both me and the dresser. And, because I'm a woman, it's unlikely I'll ever be expected to take the heavy end. I consider that to be a privilege of being female, and I'll take it.
(never mind how much it irritated me that the guy who picked up the freezer on Friday didn't want me to lift anything. It's a freezer. I can pick it up by myself, and did before he arrived. But hey, dude, knock yourself out)
* This from someone who has to deadlift 40kg 45 times at the gym to get any feeling of 'done something'.
This is the hallway:
My OCD is not liking this one little bit. I can cope with a bit of mess in my house, and I know this is only temporary, but it's CHANGE and it's also filled my house up with stuff - it's basically two houses' worth of stuff in one house. What this means is that my 'everything has a place' self-soothing is thrown out. There are two couches, neither of which we can actually use, there is no floor space, and the whole effect is chaotic and unharmonious, and for me, this means I'm on edge all the time. I feel like there's something wrong, because the spaces in my house are wrong, and in combination with being tired and nothing really going according to plan this weekend, this led to tears before bedtime, and a general air of desperately-trying-to-keep-my-shit-toget
No Jez, I did not alphabetise my CDs, instead they're organised according to genre, with bogan music from the bad old days at one end, solo female artists in the middle and electronica at the left hand end for easy access. This makes sense to me.
Anyway, an oasis of calm in the sea of furniture:
I really wish I could make those cables disappear, and I will figure it out, but last night it was beyond me. But yeah, anyone who's seen my old setup for computer and desk will appreciate what an improvement this is.
And my bedroom:
I've not had a dresser with a mirror before, it's all a bit posh. And somewhat of a shock to sit up in the morning and there I am, blearing back at myself. Luckily I'm shortsighted so I don't have to see if I don't want to. It also made me brush my hair because I could see it and the mirror wasn't steamed up like the bathroom one always is in the morning.
So yeah. Slowly it'll come back together, my home will once more be tranquil and spacious (with better furniture), and then I can get to tackling what's left at Mum's. We've decided to have a garage sale at her house. It will be in two or three weeks' time depending on how long it takes to sort the stuff out and sort my house out. Other people are welcome to put stuff in this garage sale, but they must also be willing to take away what doesn't sell, or help with taking things to the Sallies/dump afterwards. Let me know if this is you.
In the middle of all this, I'm also doing the TradeMe thing for the larger items like fridge, dining table, microwave etc. So it's all a bit *gnng*. It will get better. This is my mantra. Thank you Dr Wheel for helping me yesterday, I'd have been fucked without you. xx
Also, does anyone know of a good, reliable and knowledgeable valuer? We seem to have everything from an old Sportronic 6 that still goes, through to some antique starter pistols, jewellery and weird old things from around the world. We are supposed to turn Mum's assets into money, but have no idea what this stuff is worth. Also, some of it should probably be insured if kept. Anyway, grist took a painting to Dunbar Sloane the other day, but they couldn't give any information that we couldn't find ourselves using the internet. I'm kind of hoping for a bit better than that because my Dad was very well travelled and some of this stuff is quite obscure.
So, has anyone else done this kind of thing before,and do you have a recommendation? That would be awesome.
Also, nerdnite tonight. I hope not to fall asleep as I have to go to Tawa after work before going to this. But I will be there to hear you lot speak, mmk?