dread, best of luck. Moving does suck. I've avoided it for 16 years now, but prior to that, we moved every 3-5 years or so. One thing is certain: The next time that we move, it will be to house without a basement. Basements are like Purgatory for crap that you don't need. You know that it's all going to hell, but you make it hang out for a few years before bestowing the death sentence.
When we last moved, we were meticulous about categorizing stuff and labeling boxes. So when we moved into the new house, boxes went to their designated room. Even the boxes marked "basement". It worked out great. But there is this pair of silver candlesticks that my mother bought in Mexico 55 years ago, They had been on the dining room table, but disappeared during the move. My wife swore up and down that the mover's stole them, since the table got packed the day that the movers arrived.
Skip ahead 10 years, and I'm cleaning out the basement. At the bottom of the stack of unopened moving boxes marked "basement" I find a box marked "shit from the dining room table". My wife urges me to just toss it into the trash, since we haven't missed it for ten years. I shake it. Sounds like money inside. I open it. It's like a time capsule. The newspaper and mail from the day that we moved; loose change; dog bones; the contents of my pockets from the night before; an unwashed beer glass; the empty bottle of John Bull that was next to the glass, And, on the bottom of the box....the candlesticks.
Next time that we move, we're each allowed 5 boxes and the rest goes to auction.
