The Ecology of Moving

Sorry, folks, I have been offline for two weeks now! There was the packing up of the computer, the moving of the household, the unpacking of the computer, the five days of waiting for DSL at the new digs, the two days of wrangling with BellSouth to reconfigure the DSL, and before it could be solved, I took off to Davis for ten days of vacation (from unemployment, yes.) But now I'm back, and the trip already seeming somewhat surreal, I am back in the same exact place in the unpacking process, though much more quiet and rested.
Yup, all of our stuff (actually most of it, we still have stuff in California, so much stuff total) has shifted over. To those of you who recall, we first started boxing things right after our wedding last March in preparation for Aunt Hope's move into the old Davis homeplace. Then we took off for 5 months' ramble in the South Pacific. Then we came back and packed up the Ford and drove across this vast land, spent a month or so prospecting, then flew back across to pack more stuff, load a Budget truck, and drive back across, Emmett in the cab, Jet in parallel with a shipper going the Northern route. Well, we never unpacked most of those boxes, given our narrow accomodations, and now we are at that point, resolved to unpack every last bit of it, reconnect or permanently disconnect with our things. The new place is so huge we have an entire bedroom dedicated to thrift/garage sale sorting. Wow!
And this is where you find that of the long list of belongings those of us in fortunate countries hoard, none of them are unrelated to the other items. I could not put away china until I washed them, and had to keep unpacking to find sponges and soap. Lo and behold, the soap was packed with my long-lost collection of hair elastics, as well as ages-old bottles of perfume given me by my family (it's a French thing) which I cannot throw away. In turn, these force me to evaluate our bathroom cabinet needs, which requires the finding of tools not seen in over a year. Objects until now completely separate (say, hankies and screwdrivers) have somehow bonded during their months of confinement together (at times, irreparably). And of course, as the various projects of unpacking unfold, myriad impasses come about, can't go ahead with unpacking books until bookcases are bought, can't go ahead with organizing the drawers until an organizer resurfaces... So, sure enough, every item is interconnected with every other, in ways heretofore unpredictable, though it shouldn't be surprising, given they all share but one degree of separation.
Next time: more on the California trip.