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Blacksburg BnB
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This is the second weekend Steffi and I have spent in Blacksburg, in our new home on Cranwell Circle. This time, however, to get here we drove two automobiles, laden-to-the-hilt with Stuff. While Virginia Tech is paying for the move, the University's allowance isn't nearly enough to cover our relocation in full (as determined by estimates from three different moving companies), so we're packing up large portions of the household we can carry.
The final move, as best I can estimate at this point, will take place the last weekend or day (31st) in May. Until then, we'll probably continue moving smaller items so that the moving company Two Men with a Truck will only receive VT's funds and none of ours.
When we arrived, John (the present occupant and previous owner of our home) was astounded at the sheer volume that our two cars can hold, commenting that -- after watching us unpack for about 20 minutes and seeing no sign of a quick end -- it was like the old "clown car" gag. In preparation for the two-car convoy, I spent all of last week, particularly evening after work, packing up books, electronic equipment, and other detritus into whatever containers presented themselves as convenient. Like John, I'm still a little surprised (and quite a bit proud) after stuffing my old 1988 Mazda MX-6 with 16 brown grocery bags full of books -- this along with two rather hefty stereo speakers, a Singer sewing machine, a number of framed pictures, my B&D circular saw, and about 100 pounds worth of bric-a-brac.
So, if you want to go the economy route to make a lowrider out of your wheels, my suggestion is to simply fill it up with your own personal library. I'm betting old Betsie -- or whatever name my car would have if I were creative and self-confident enough to baptize her (or him?) -- had more books in her than the Harris County bookmobile.
Our soon to be permanent residence -- right now just a weekend getaway -- has taken on a sort of Bed-n-Breakfasty kind of feel for us. Our tenants, John and Tonya, leave us clean sheets and towels (and a couple of beers in the fridge) and skedaddle down to Durham to work on the Green Street residence they just bought. While they work their asses off leveling the house, stripping old wallpaper, and cleaning out an attic whose contents are probably worth a small fortune on eBay, we kick back in front of a HDTV and 175 cable channels with gin and tonic.
Sure, the house belongs to us, but it's still filled with someone else's furniture, an ornery cat named Nacho (actually, he's spent a lot of time on both of our laps), and memories not our own. I like the vacation-home "feel" and the chance to escape Carborro/Chapel Hill for a short weekend, but I'm ready to have our welcome mat out front, our cat shedding black hair in every corner, and our pictures on the wall. And I can't wait to fill the basement up with our present and future junk.
The final move, as best I can estimate at this point, will take place the last weekend or day (31st) in May. Until then, we'll probably continue moving smaller items so that the moving company Two Men with a Truck will only receive VT's funds and none of ours.
When we arrived, John (the present occupant and previous owner of our home) was astounded at the sheer volume that our two cars can hold, commenting that -- after watching us unpack for about 20 minutes and seeing no sign of a quick end -- it was like the old "clown car" gag. In preparation for the two-car convoy, I spent all of last week, particularly evening after work, packing up books, electronic equipment, and other detritus into whatever containers presented themselves as convenient. Like John, I'm still a little surprised (and quite a bit proud) after stuffing my old 1988 Mazda MX-6 with 16 brown grocery bags full of books -- this along with two rather hefty stereo speakers, a Singer sewing machine, a number of framed pictures, my B&D circular saw, and about 100 pounds worth of bric-a-brac.
So, if you want to go the economy route to make a lowrider out of your wheels, my suggestion is to simply fill it up with your own personal library. I'm betting old Betsie -- or whatever name my car would have if I were creative and self-confident enough to baptize her (or him?) -- had more books in her than the Harris County bookmobile.
Our soon to be permanent residence -- right now just a weekend getaway -- has taken on a sort of Bed-n-Breakfasty kind of feel for us. Our tenants, John and Tonya, leave us clean sheets and towels (and a couple of beers in the fridge) and skedaddle down to Durham to work on the Green Street residence they just bought. While they work their asses off leveling the house, stripping old wallpaper, and cleaning out an attic whose contents are probably worth a small fortune on eBay, we kick back in front of a HDTV and 175 cable channels with gin and tonic.
Sure, the house belongs to us, but it's still filled with someone else's furniture, an ornery cat named Nacho (actually, he's spent a lot of time on both of our laps), and memories not our own. I like the vacation-home "feel" and the chance to escape Carborro/Chapel Hill for a short weekend, but I'm ready to have our welcome mat out front, our cat shedding black hair in every corner, and our pictures on the wall. And I can't wait to fill the basement up with our present and future junk.
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