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We are now going through the difficult after effects of moving . The most emotionally wearing part is not being able to find stuff you are used to having at hand. We have a system here at Windstone, of unpacking boxes, placing the contents out on rolling carts until the stuff can be put away, then loosing it again. Problem is, the carts ROLL, so they keep getting moved around. I knew where the precious cart of unpainted Grizzly bears was last week, but now it has vanished into the crowd of other carts full of boxes. Maybe we could use those tall bike flags, or helium filled balloons to identify them, when I find them again.
Yes, we tried to be orderly about this move. We did a very good job I think. Every one of the gazillion boxes from the Windstone warehouse was marked with its contents, these were then put into large wooden crates that were carefully inventoried as to what was in them. The lists of crate numbers and contents were entered into a database and kept on spread sheets. This worked … except for the rule “garbage in, garbage out”. Phonetic spellings, compounded with an unclear idea of the objects packed, created a list of some pretty strange titles. We know exactly where the Orange Wompers are, we found the box of Stomage piz. We have plenty of Gene pegs. When we need the Cat lickute, we’re good. But try and find the piano.