When you need assistance around the house, you can call an expert, call a relative or phone a friend. When I decided it was time for a major paint job in my condo, I did just that, all of the above. Fortunately, my brother-in-law is a painter by profession; he is also a friend. While I was looking for a new home, while I was still in my house with my partially packed belongings growing in stacks around me, Dave said "of course you know I can paint your new place when you're ready?" That was some time ago. I have been here for a year now, not having had opportunity to book him to paint while the suite was empty. Actually it wasn't empty long. The previous owners moved into the guest room down the hall while their movers carted out their possessions, then they cleaned and relocated. I didn't receive the keys until the morning of my move. My movers were at the coffee shop waiting for my call. By the time they arrived, my sister and I had our two vehicles loaded and ready. We helped the team haul items out to the trailer; as I remember we weren't a lot of help. We haven't the muscular structure suitable for the tough lifting but we did our best. I received the keys around 9:30 or 10 a.m. and was completely moved in shortly after 1 p.m. The Shaw cable man arrived, the new couch was delivered from Sim's and one sister left to be replaced by the other. My friend also arrived to help unpack and organize my new kitchen. I kept the washing machine going all afternoon, rewashing all my blankets that had done double duty to protect my furniture. I also ironed all my uniforms before I was able to hang them in my new walk-in closet. I did not know that I needed one, but it certainly has been a benefit. By late afternoon I returned to the house to vacuum and open some windows to air it out. It is odd how a vacant space smells stuffy so quickly. Judy and I also discovered that I had neglected the front hall closet. There sat my ironing board, broom and dustpan, the mop and bucket; all essentials. I had to be out that day as my son and daughter-in-law were about to move in. Nowhere in that busy schedule did I find a spot for anyone to do some painting. I moved in, unpacked and recycled all those multiplied cardboard boxes. I had been bringing a few of them home from work weekly, after the grocery delivery. After such a long time of house hunting and equally long of gathering boxes, I was sure I had enough. By the time I was out, there were very few cartons left. Over the summer Dave's workload continued to be heavy; he didn't even see my new place until they came for Thanksgiving, although Judy had been many times. Immediately following our family gathering, Judy was in a serious car accident and endured a slow, painful recovery. It wasn't until recently that I even raised the question about the painting. Dave gave me a tentative date so I scrambled to repack. All those shelves of books were already spilling out onto the table and dressers in both bedrooms. I repackaged them, along with the knick-knacks, the two oil lamps and framed pictures large and small.
With all my stuff cleared out of the way it still was a challenge for three able men. I had a phone call to reschedule and my painter arrived at my workplace to pick up a key. I returned home the first day to find my living room furniture stacked in a heap in the middle of the small space. One bed was on end against the closet and tarps covered the floors. Eventually the job was complete and it looks amazing. I got my life back, dust and all. I vacuumed, dusted, washed floors, and dusted some more. I haven't repositioned the books or the pictures yet. I'm still waiting for the dust to settle.
"With all my stuff cleared out of the way it still was a challenge for three able men."
