Lost in Storage

Almost a year ago we packed up our stuff to move to the Central Coast. We thought we were being realistic in anticipating a three-to-six month period before we bought a house. But it is now almost eleven months and we are still in our temporary apartment.

For those of you who are keeping score, today we hit the 166 day mark on our offer for the short-sale house (our fourth attempt to buy a home). Suffice it to say a short sale takes a very long time. If this one doesn't pan out we won't be trying it again. But that's a rant for another day.

The purpose of this blog entry is to talk about storage. Since we had to fit our 3 + 2 (and loft) possessions into a one-bedroom apartment, we had some choices to make. We rented a 10 by 15 foot storage unit where we could put those things we didn't think we'd need immediately. Like my books. Like the sewing machine(s) and jewelry equipment and other things-to-use-when-making-things. Like our collection of artwork that's big enough to fill several galleries. Like the china I've used once. Most of our furniture. And my orange pot.

Since I am a rare enough cook, the thought of packing away my pot for three or so months didn't trouble me. But I hadn't considered that living in a new town with no friends and a kitchen would put me in a position of actually wanting to cook so that was an item I missed almost immediately. You see, I am a one-pot cook and that is my one pot. Alas, even though BigTea and I spent hours digging through storage, we were unable to find it. I guiltily admit that yes, even though it is a Le Creuset and they cost a bundle, I bought a new one. I will pass along the old one to the World Traveler when I finally find it.

Another item I thought we could manage without was our ball-winder. Most people don't even know what that is, but if you are a passionate knitter it's an item you need to make yarn spools out of skeins. Because we had so much yarn already wound, it didn't seem like we'd need the winder for a while. And we both knew when we moved into the one-bedroom apartment we'd have to make sacrifices. But ten months and lots of new yarn later, BigTea and I are now winding our yarn by hand. The ball winder has evaded detection, likely packed inside something (my orange pot?) to keep it safe.

We've learned to joke about this. The reply to any question that begins "Have you seen . . . " has become "It's in storage."

"Have you seen the Pooh?"
"He's in storage."
"What about my lunch?"
"It's in storage too."

So maybe it isn't the funniest stuff you've ever heard, but we laugh because it helps to assuage the pain of waiting, waiting, waiting, and being without, without, without all those things we have collected because we actually NEED and WANT and USE them . . .

like the . . .

electric hair trimmer
stereo
Mac OSX disks
rest of my TBR pile
notecards
chest of fabrics
Beatles CDs
Playstation and DDR mat
and the friendly stuffed Gorilla who is sitting guard.

"I am in no pain. Waiting so long has made me senseless."
-BigTea