As a former Army Brat, my recent PCS brought my total number of moves to 17 in a short span of thirty years of walking this earth. Alas, from my mother, I learned some "tricks of the trade" wherein you:
A. Never get rid of curtains, as you never know what size of windows your next place will have.
B. Always go in with the knowledge that hands-down, no questions asked, the kitchen is the hardest room to pack, unpack, and organize in a fluid manner.
C. Create "to do lists" for husbands/dogs/children/unwanted "helpers." This may include,
-- Go walk the dog.
-- Go stock up on food/pantry supplies.
-- Go turn in the cable box for one that actually works.
-- Go move that pile of yard debris to the municipal mulch pile.
(Notice that they all start with a go-- in order for the offending party to get from underneath your skirt so you can concentrate already.)
But, the one task that still perplexes me is my closet. Having lived my summers at home in SC while attending school in the Vermont winters, my wool sweater collection rivals the number of sundresses I own. Fast forward into grown up C, and I now own suits, ballgowns, and lots of fabulous grown up items that require drycleaning. Fast forward some more to the Alaskan C, who wears nothing but northface, sweatshirts, and jeans. Still, to this day, I stand in my new closet to be for the next two years and look around at my trunks (yes, those large Christmas tubs that most Americans fill with faux Santas...yeah, mine are filled with clothes-- four of them...and counting). Mentally, I scroll through my annual calendar, wondering if I will need those adorable chinos before my weekend in Napa, and if I should keep a gown handy just in case I get an invitation to the CG Foundation dinner in August, and if I might, just might be able to wear those adorable, cute shoes for the first time in three seasons. In the bitter end, I sigh heavily, and hang up my northface pullovers, resigning to the fact if I say I love Alaska as much as I do (which, I do, a lot), I will wear them proudly and not pout too long about having to tuck away those sundresses for a few more years.