Tears of a Clown

Oh, the excitement of an international relocation!  Frankly, I don't know what excited me the most, the departure or the arrival.  Obviously, both are filled with anticipation and chaos.  Watching the container be packed to go was a thrill.  Everything was relatively organized and there were few concerns after the final decisions about what was being shipped, sold and stored.  I say this now with some perspective on the events.  Those kind souls who were so supportive through my whining, rambling and disorganization will hopefully appreciate my ability to "grow".

After more than 6 weeks of camping out, first in our guest house, then hotel and finally our apartment in Vienna, the call came that our container had arrived and passed customs.  We survived on a few suitcases, folding chairs and travel sized toiletries, what more did we need?  Oh wait, a house full of  real furniture and possessions was ready to be delivered.  I missed my "stuff", although I could not remember exactly what it all was.  Until some of it arrived broken and damaged.

The morning started off great.  Six movers bringing in boxes, taking away empty boxes, following directions about what went where, and they even spoke English.  Oh joy!  Mike's Dad's bar arrived first and in great condition.  Once set in place, it looked ready to serve up a cocktail and a smile, always in memory of Vern.  The bar is a custom made, mid-century modern piece that travelled the world with Vern and now Mike.

Next the boxes of glassware, dishes, china and stemware.  I overpacked, but all survived except for one piece, whew.  The Lladro collection was intact.  The art and decor, all fine.  I was thinking to myself, we are golden, this move is a cinch, let's move to Tokyo next.  

Then the mood shifted as large furniture pieces were unpacked with significant damage.  A prized thrift store couch, 10 feet of authentic 1960s Kroehler, reupholstered to perfection in aqua, was damaged beyond repair.  Our living room buffet had a large hole though the top.  Our new nightstand was broken.  The air compressor on the sleep number bed fried on the 110V to 220V transformer, leaving it a flat pancake.  This was just too much.  I cried like a baby.

So this morning, in safety, good health and surrounded by the multitude of possessions that successfully took a trip across two Continents and one Ocean, I regain perspective.  A few more things come to mind.  In chaos there is opportunity.  Insurance is a good thing.  I love to shop.  Finally, as I unwrap one more dish from a box: