My parents are moving.
They need a shorter commute. To the dining hall. They live at a retirement center in a very nice apartment on the first floor at the end of the hallway. This is convenient as they have a nice little patio. But it's inconvenient because when one of them is ill, it's a long walk down one hallway, up an elevator two floors and down another hallway to the dining hall.
After Mom had her knee surgery, Dad would often drive her to the dining hall. From the outside, door to door, it's the equivalent of a drive across the parking lot. It was such a short driving distance that if they didn't put on their seat belts, the seat belt chime would sound like this; "Ding di-"
When Dad was going through chemo, he often couldn't make the walk to the dining hall and back, so Mom would get carry out for him. An opportunity came along where they can move into a unit that is four doors down from the dining rooms. They took it.
We get to move them in a few weeks. Short moves such as this can be deceptively evil. A person tends to think they can carry a little bit now and then and get it done. Such as moving an entire apartment's worth of books, clothes and possessions in a shopping cart or laundry baskets--- as if we'd let that happen.
Not that any actual packing has been done to date. So far we've organized the storage bins.
Then we reorganized the storage bins.
Then we re re organized the storage bins.
Then we -- well, you get the picture.
This weekend, family is arriving from all corners (except Texas ----- ahem!) and we are going to get started on the packing. And first things first. We are going to padlock the storage bins. Those are DONE!!!!!
Second thing, we're going to take control of the thermostat. The last time we were all together in their apartment, we roasted.
Wish us luck.