We’re moving at the end of the month. Come hell or high waters, after 15 years (which was probably 10 too long)I’m out of this craphole. Farewell Pepto Bismol pink walls – I won’t miss you!

I’ve been fighting with the landlords for basic repairs for years. Finally my wall caved in in the bathroom and it took me threatening to take them to court to get it fixed. Their version of fixing it? Slop some pollyfilla and a strip of white paint (over pre-existing green paint) and call it a day.

So, we found a nice two bedroom basement apartment that we’re moving to (two blocks away – yeah we’re lazy) at the end of the month. Rick is working split shifts, so not a lot of opportunity for him to pack. Which means that it falls on me to do it because I work 8-4. Let me tell you after working all day, packing is the last thing I’m interested in, but to be fair, most of the accumulated crud is mine (it’s that stashaholic thing). What you see in these pictures is a result of about 6 hours of dedicated packing. Oh someone help me or it’s all hitting the garbage on the way out!

Here’s the progress so far. Not so good eh?  It took me four hours to clear two shelves in the craft pile because I kept getting distracted by patterns I’d forgotten about I still have 6 garbage bags full in the locker of scrumptious (and some really cheap stuff too) yarn shouting at me every time I go near it. Today I got to the entire shelf in the closet that housed empty canning jars. Yes, you read that right, canning jars – an entire 4′ x 4′ shelf. It took 5 boxes to get these suckers ready. I swear they are like stash – multiplying when you aren’t looking. I haven’t canned in years because the plan was always to move to the new place…well, that never happened, but somehow I got new cans every year! I also collect vintage jars. My prized posession is one that’s from 1892 – porcelain lid and all.

I did manage to sell $200 at the Toronto Hookups Crochet Guild. They had a “let’s-help-Sherri-move-because-she-always-sells-us-good-stuff-at-incredible-bargain-basement-prices” sale.

Of course somehow some lovely wool ended up jumping into my suitcase screaming “take me home and make a shawl with lots of psso’s in it.” I really have to be medicated one of these days.

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