Today, I started packing. Seriously packing. And I, like so many others before me, was shocked at the sheer quantity of books that I own. There seem to be so many more when one is trying to put them into boxes.
And yet ... the books were the easy part. Books stack nicely. You can arrange them by size, try to use the odd-sized ones to fill odd spaces in boxes, you can pack them in so many ways. But the rest of my belongings? How is one to properly pack paintings and shoes and small decorative items? How is one to pack crochet hooks and deodorant, binders and hangers and videotapes and pictures? My belongings are becoming a swampland, and I am sinking.
At least I am finding things that I thought I had lost forever, and finding things that I didn't know I had. My earrings are all pairs again. I have a book on types of cats, a little pocket-sized one with a bent cover from falling behind the bookshelf. I found where I had lost my garage door opener (behind some books). And I found two cheese graters in my bedroom. Why did I need one cheese grater in my room, never mind two? I must have been meaning to take them to York, else it just totally makes no sense. I don't even eat cheese.