Wow, that wasn't easy! Let me repeat, that was really, really not easy. Another adjective. Hard as hell. Another one: exhausting. And another one: hard as hell. (Did I say that already?) Okay, first there was packing five years of stuff. A lot stuff. Moving is a war of attrition. There's no resounding victory. No flag raising. It's a long war. A skirmish here, a skirmish there. Defeat the bathroom and then retreat from the bedroom, tail between the legs. And then another retreat in the kitchen. A gathering of forces in the living room. A new strategy. Bring in reinforcements. Mother-in-law from Vail. Cannon shots at the wine glasses. Lobbing grenades at our Villeroy & Boche china. Last-minute roadblocks. A sink hole on our street the night before we move. No joke. Five years without a problem. The day before we move: A GIANT GAPING HOLE ON 82ND STREET. Are the GODS working against us. And then, a quiet victory. The hole is filled. The "Oz" moving company guys turns out to be wizards at moving. I force Olga to take a picture with them. Much against her will. The. Adventure. Begins. We've infiltrated our new home. What now?
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