boxes_300

The great unboxing

And then re-boxing

30 July 2010. After catching my breath for a couple of days, I tackled the enormous pile of boxes and corresponding empty shelves. Besides the natural desire to get settled, the Bunch are coming for brunch on Sunday, and a kitchen full of boxes just will not do.

When you pack yourself for a move, you make a lot of why do I have this why would I move it decisions on the fly. When someone else packs for you, they pack everything, whether it ought to be packed or not. Example: a one-gallon container of vinegar with about half a cup left in it. (I buy vinegar in big jugs because I use it to clean the deposits from the teakettle and everything else that comes in contact with the heavily calcified water of Palm Springs.)

First I decided to line all the shelves. I carefully calculated the amount of liner that I'd need, then went to Lowe's and bought a pile of rolls of shelf-liner. Predictably on Wednesday I ran out before finishing the shelves in the laundry room and in the master closet. Argh!

Then I began to open the "kitchen" boxes — unhelpfully, most of them were labeled "miss" [sic]. I decided to get everything out to take stock of what I have before trying to fit it into the cabinets.

Why?

  • Why do I have enough glassware to stock a bar?
  • Why do I have 30 coffee mugs, including 4 travel mugs?
  • Why do I have 4 cocktail shakers when I almost never mix cocktails?
  • Why do I have 2 jars of ground cardamom, a spice that I think I've used once in a recipe?
  • And what about the 2 jars of cream of tartar, of which I use maybe 1/4 teaspoon when I whip cream?

And why in the world did I pay someone to pack all this stuff and haul it here?

Obviously, a bunch of stuff had to go, so I reboxed the surplus items for Revivals. They can come next week and get all these goodies as well as the microwave I no longer need (house has a built-in one), the TV I know I won't watch anymore, etc, etc.

slideshow image
 

Speed:  3 sec. | 5 sec. | 10 sec.

After two days of sorting and stowing and culling, the kitchen is back together, albeit in a slimmed down version.

Tomorrow, the office.