Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Irony of Ironies

Yesterday, I brought our items up from the storage unit to get them prepared for the movers. The irony of ironies is that most of the things we brought with us were never unpacked, but in order to get the items back to the US and through customs with little hassle they need to be removed from their boxes so the movers can repack them. Customs officers in the US are less likely to flag shipments packed by professional movers than they are by ones packed by individuals. There's nothing of concern, but it would be a bloody pain in the ass to have someone go through it all, item by item. By volume, it's not a lot, but it is a lot of little things: artworks, books, personal papers, tools, etc. When we moved to Australia, we purged big time by giving away or chucking most of our things - it was quite liberating. I did a similar exercise when I moved to Washington, but not as drastic. There was a point yesterday that I secretly wished there had been a tube leading to a rubbish bin, so I could toss it all into oblivion. Sentimentality has never been thing. However, there were items I came across yesterday that I had forgotten I had. And that made me smile.

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