If your Ford had a Matthew McConaughey, it would be a Lincoln

Movelopnik status: sometimes I stack things.

The shelf in the garage that I kept bulk paper products on isn’t there any more. so the Kleenex had to go somewhere else. Sometimes I stack things.

In general, there’s not much left in the house besides some big stuff that will leave on Monday when I have a friend coming down to help me lift. They’ll be a Uhaul involved, which I’ll make sure to document for Miss Mercedes. One side effect of this is that both the F-150 and the Mustang fit in the garage at the same time. Normally that side is occupied by the racecar, and with the workbench the truck wouldn’t fit anyway.

That’s never fit over there before.

I’ve also ended up buying a new grill. The more I looked at my sorry, old hand-me-down grill, the less I was able to muster the will to move it. My parent’s bought it in the mid-90's. It has served well, but there’s not much left of it internally that hasn’t started disintegrating. It also happens that closing day on the old house is also the town’s spring cleaning/large item pick up day, so it’s last journey will be to the curb. My leather recliner that the German Shepard partially chewed when we first got her will probably also make the journey to the curb. Shopping for a replacement will give me something to do during two days of technical homelessness.


Ye olde grill got replaced with this guy, and it’s keeping the racecar and garage stuff company in that storage unit up in Las Cruces. I looked at all the big fancy grills, but then I kept looking at the price tags and my wallet kept contracting. I grill for two people primarily, and my introverted tendencies looked at the bigger grills and said that I probably don’t want that many people coming over to my house all at the same time anyway.


Today is my last day of commuting from the old house, as I’ve taken the next week and a half of for moving. I’ve got excess vacation time at the university that I’ve got to burn before July 1, so this will let me do the whole moving and unpacking thing without any real time pressure. I’m sure I’ll head up to Las Cruces a couple of times anyway over the weekend, but not for going to work. I think I’m going to deeply enjoy trading the 25 mile commute for a 1.8 mile commute consisting of seven stop signs, three right turns and no traffic lights.

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