Just some of the boxes and other stuff ready for the big move in September 2008.
Back then we only had one cat, Kwittie Boy, who was ever curious with all the packing and all the chaos leading up to the big day. (This time we moved four cats with us.)
Kwittie Boy whispering to me about not doing anything stupid. "Do you see this knife?" he said.
Of course he's the boss, so I never dared crossing him.
That move-out brought us back to fussing over at swatches at the hardware and deciding on paint colors (because we wanted at least the bedrooms repainted). As usual, the un-handyman in me was fascinated by the act of mixing paint: a few drops of this, another of that... and then sending them to a machine to mix them properly. I only knew manually mixing paint so I was again awed by how the machine vigorously shook the paint cans vertically to blend the colors together.
A few drops of black...
Mixing paint by stirring seemed so ancient because apparently shaking was the way to go. Think cocktails, baby!
Then of course there was the big truck to ferry everything from Point A to Point B. And the mess that followed once they've unloaded everything. How to even begin arranging them all?
Chaos at the first floor. It's hard to fit in lots of stuff in very little space.
The master bedroom was actually two small rooms with the wall torn down to make way for a bigger room.
And the other room automatically became storage space (that we never really fully managed to fix up until we left the place.)
And our dear Kwittie Boy just took to hiding after being forced out of his comfort zone. Well, he's also not used to being around lots of people to begin with. In this apartment, he would soon be joined by three other cats through the course of five years, the first of which being Foreman.
We still have a lot more to do at our new place but hopefully we can finally declare we're all settled soon.