It's been a holiday whirlwind here, preceded immediately by DisasterMove '09, of which the story shortly, so first just a quick catch-up! Ernest and I arrived safely and, amazingly, on time, in Heathrow, where we were met by Nick! There followed some holiday visiting in Leicester (all fun), some setting up house (trips to second-hand store for a t.v. stand, telephone table; trip to IKEA for many, many things that took many, many hours to get out of the store), and some sitting around. I'll probably take some pictures of the house (and maybe neighborhood) later today after I clean and Nick puts together my new IKEA dresser. But first: let me tell you, children, the ballad of DisasterMove '09, the worst move ever known to man, and also a story of heartwarming triumph over adversity.
So here's how things were originally scheduled. My last day at work was Wednesday, the 16th of December. That would, I thought, leave me adequate time to run all my final errands and do all my packing before Saturday. Then on Saturday morning at 8 a.m. I would take Ernest to the vet for his tick and tapeworm treatment – the final hurdle before boarding the plane Monday, the 21st, at 2 p.m. At 9 a.m. I would pick up my (amazingly cheap) rental truck. By 1 or 2 p.m. my mother, Meg, and I would arrive in Roanoke and unload the truck and maybe even set up some of my things. At 4 p.m. we would meet with a caterer who had no other meeting time available. At 6 p.m. my father, Meg, Ben, and I would go to Grandma's house for Hanukkah dinner. The next day, I would visit my cousins in the morning, have Hanukkah dinner with my mother in the evening, and ready myself for the journey. At 2 p.m. on Monday we would check Ernest in, at 3 p.m. I would check in, and at 7 p.m. I would fly to England. A tightly scheduled – some might even say beautifully scheduled plan. Nature saw my beautiful plan and laughed.
I had done all my errands and most of my packing, fortunately, ahead of time, because around 8 a.m. on Friday morning Meg sent me an e-mail saying "do you realize they're calling for a foot of snow on Saturday?" I had not, in fact, realized this. The last time I had looked at the weather forecast, it was calling for only 2-3 inches of snow. A foot changed things. After some frantic calling, we decided that I should try to secure a different rental truck for that very day, and we would move the move up a day to try to beat the snow. This was, as it turns out, the only good decision we could have made, but over the coming days it did not seem like it. Meg and Mama prepared to get in the car and get to Charlottesville as soon as possible, provided school was cancelled (which it soon was), and I called every rental truck place in Charlottesville until I found one that had a truck I could (for $100 more than originally planned) rent that day. I drove out there and picked up the truck at about 9:30 a.m. and drove it back home.
Meanwhile the vet's office called and suggested that, because of the snow, we should move up Ernest's appointment. This would seriously violate the rule that he had to be treated no more than 48 hours before the flight, but they said they'd fudge the time. So once I got home, I did a whirlwind job of packing my remaining items into any available container, put as many boxes in the truck as possible, and then drove the truck to Pantops to take Ernest to the vet. His appointment took from 12:15 to about 1:30, but I left with one unhappy but tick-free cat and all the paperwork I hoped I needed to get him on and off the plane successfully.
Meg and Mama arrived at my house at about 1:45. We loaded and cleaned as fast as we could, but between it taking an hour to get back to the rental place to get my car (because of panicked people trying to go to Walmart to buy their Christmas presents before the snow hit) and the sheer time it took to get everything done, we didn't leave Charlottesville until 4 p.m. At which time the first few flakes of snow were beginning to fall….
Events hereafter will be narrated in posts below.
So here's how things were originally scheduled. My last day at work was Wednesday, the 16th of December. That would, I thought, leave me adequate time to run all my final errands and do all my packing before Saturday. Then on Saturday morning at 8 a.m. I would take Ernest to the vet for his tick and tapeworm treatment – the final hurdle before boarding the plane Monday, the 21st, at 2 p.m. At 9 a.m. I would pick up my (amazingly cheap) rental truck. By 1 or 2 p.m. my mother, Meg, and I would arrive in Roanoke and unload the truck and maybe even set up some of my things. At 4 p.m. we would meet with a caterer who had no other meeting time available. At 6 p.m. my father, Meg, Ben, and I would go to Grandma's house for Hanukkah dinner. The next day, I would visit my cousins in the morning, have Hanukkah dinner with my mother in the evening, and ready myself for the journey. At 2 p.m. on Monday we would check Ernest in, at 3 p.m. I would check in, and at 7 p.m. I would fly to England. A tightly scheduled – some might even say beautifully scheduled plan. Nature saw my beautiful plan and laughed.
I had done all my errands and most of my packing, fortunately, ahead of time, because around 8 a.m. on Friday morning Meg sent me an e-mail saying "do you realize they're calling for a foot of snow on Saturday?" I had not, in fact, realized this. The last time I had looked at the weather forecast, it was calling for only 2-3 inches of snow. A foot changed things. After some frantic calling, we decided that I should try to secure a different rental truck for that very day, and we would move the move up a day to try to beat the snow. This was, as it turns out, the only good decision we could have made, but over the coming days it did not seem like it. Meg and Mama prepared to get in the car and get to Charlottesville as soon as possible, provided school was cancelled (which it soon was), and I called every rental truck place in Charlottesville until I found one that had a truck I could (for $100 more than originally planned) rent that day. I drove out there and picked up the truck at about 9:30 a.m. and drove it back home.
Meanwhile the vet's office called and suggested that, because of the snow, we should move up Ernest's appointment. This would seriously violate the rule that he had to be treated no more than 48 hours before the flight, but they said they'd fudge the time. So once I got home, I did a whirlwind job of packing my remaining items into any available container, put as many boxes in the truck as possible, and then drove the truck to Pantops to take Ernest to the vet. His appointment took from 12:15 to about 1:30, but I left with one unhappy but tick-free cat and all the paperwork I hoped I needed to get him on and off the plane successfully.
Meg and Mama arrived at my house at about 1:45. We loaded and cleaned as fast as we could, but between it taking an hour to get back to the rental place to get my car (because of panicked people trying to go to Walmart to buy their Christmas presents before the snow hit) and the sheer time it took to get everything done, we didn't leave Charlottesville until 4 p.m. At which time the first few flakes of snow were beginning to fall….
Events hereafter will be narrated in posts below.
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