Moving

Moving
April 1. - 20., 2002
about inspections, Cecilia turning hungry at the wrong time, and our first days and nights at OUR house

Tuesday after Easter was the day on which several inspections were planned. Sid could not stay away from such fun, and so he participated in several "situations". First, an inspector took a ladder and climbed up on the roof; when a handyman wanted to climb behind him to look what's needed, a scene unfolded like out of Good Soldier Svejk. A Californian ladder happens to be a deadly tool, for one may fall off of it and kill self, and get up and sue for damages with the owner of said ladder, who should have prevented the fallen party from climbing there at all cost. Finally, a compromise was reached whereupon both ladder and handyman were left unattended, while the inspector "was inspecting a remote part of the roof", so the handyman could climb without permission and thus be completely responsible for any consequences. I think that the golden state of California should institute a mandatory hunting season for lawyers, before all this nonsense exceeds palatable dimensions.

To our (relatively pleasant) surprise, the inspection discovered major discrepancies in a bathroom (damaged or improperly installed soap holder), in the garage (installed wild wires were definitely not by the code), on the front yard (a splashboard is missing, which should direct water from a downspout farther away from the foundation) etc. The inspecting company produced a folder with about an inch of report about the condition of the house. We could advanced to the next round, this being another haggle with the sellers over removing of found discrepancies.



	Arastradero moving has erupted

Eventually it delayed the actual house sale by a day -- sellers did not manage to get everything in order, but it was worth it, for we received a so-called "walk-through". The former owner was supposed to take us through the house and show us how everything works. She invited the handyman again, just to be sure; he kept asking whether we will have a gas or electrical laundry dryer, which made me uneasy. And naturally -- the spot in the garage that originally contained a washer and a dryer, held only globs of lint and one baby sock. The sellers did not read their own contract carefully enough and moved both (rather antiquated) pieces out -- into a storage, for they did not buy their next house yet and would live in a rented apartment. Not that they would be this much attached to those old clunkers, we think, but perhaps they had an urge to really clean out the house, so they removed everything. It took two more days of haggling, and they eventually agreed to pay some part of our cost of new appliances.

Another funny "situation" happened around a garage door opener. The former owner had some murky idea that if you push the biggest button, the garage door opens and close, but was clearly out of her depth about remaining two other buttons. This attracted Sid's attention so much that he took it away from her and began to lecture everybody what they were meant for...

She was a bit more useful only around the pool, for there my husband the engineer enters a terra incognita. Opening pool covers, cleaning, filtering, vacuuming (yes, our pool needs underwater vacuuming) and heating kept us busy for a noticeable while. Both yards and they irrigation system turned out to be relatively complicated as well.



	Moving strong men with a barbecue

We kept walking up and down through the house, eyeing various switches, knobs, mysterious built-in closets, and omnipresent coaxial cables (a pair of TV cables terminates even in the garage, so an owner may install a workbench there and follow all Home Improvement shows, learning the skill right there on the spot!!!). I was shocked, though, how our house suddenly appeared somewhat...dingy. Without furniture, rugs, paintings (no matter how tasteless), it was at once kind of lost and destitute, I almost fell sorry for it. Well, it was receiving a new set of masters, and we will hopefully get along... :-)

Eventually the anticipated day D came and I stood in my new, cold home (the heating was turned off), gazing desperately at my first herd of boxes to unpack. I only managed to sweep all the floors on our first night, and really clean up the smaller bathroom, so that I would not detest going to the toilet -- the former owner mush have never heard of a toilet brush. Fortunately, I brought one, but we somehow forgot matches. Our previous household was fully electrified and we don't smoke, so I haven't bought matches for at least two years; it did not occur to us that we needed such tool right on the first night. In the end Sid found some leftover matches in the Wagon (many interesting things accumulated there over the years!!!) and could begin trying which one of several combinations and sequences of three various valves leads to effective turning on the gas -- to heat the house.

At ten pm we had enough of cleaning and returned to the apartment for our last night there. Going each in his or her respective car, Sid sped through the first intersection on yellow and I stayed back on red. My gas gage was steadily pointing below "EMPTY". I turned off to the fist station (I had twenty miles to go to our old place) -- just to find that besides gas I also lack my backpack with my wallet and ID. I returned to the house hoping in vain that everything would sit there on a kitchen counter. It did not. Imagining myself spending my night next to my immobilized car on a deserted freeway, I headed again towards home with a stone in my stomach, cursing Sid. I could not call him on a phone, as all my cards, money, and numbers were quite obviously riding in my backpack in Sid's trunk, and there was no phone yet at our house. It surprised me that I made it -- Sid sat happily at a computer and was not even slightly moved about the prospect of losing his wife!!!



	Taking a break moving in California has its good moments

On the following day, I packed Cecilia full and gathered Martina, who also wanted to "inspect" our house. In our new, quiet street, a group of kids of mixed ages played basketball, and as the two of us dithered in an open garage, one girl came to ask if we were the new neighbors. We chatted some about tooth braces and then continued to unpack and talk about it and cleaning up and gardening, until Sid came and with him our bed.

I must say that a first night with an engineer in a new house can be terribly exciting. After Sid had carried several tons in boxes, he sensed a sudden urge to reset all instruments and gadgets capable of remembering time (a microwave, an oven, a heating thermostat...), so that they all be exact and accurate. Our midnight brought us a funny formanesque scene, with both of us wearing nightgowns and stumbling through the house, kicking over boxes and brooms, smacking walls in places where we though we remembered light switches, thinking hard whether the strange sounds we kept hearing announced the end of the world, a fire, an earthquake, a pressure in a water heater approaching explosion, a raccoon trapped in a garage, or a neighbor vigorously pushing a doorbell button. We consequently discovered that my detail-oriented husband had reset, besides a clock, also a timer alarm on our electrical oven.

Sid took a day off on Friday and kept packing and driving up and down, and packing and driving. He convinced Martin to join him on Saturday, for which I will be forever grateful, since I could leave boxes to these strong men and turn to little things, like cleaning the kitchen cabinets, washing out ancient marmalade spills -- I tried really hard not to imagine it being anything worse than that. We got up at six on Sunday and drove over to U-Haul to rent a moving truck. After eyeballing the offered options, we chose a slightly larger one than we first thought of, and I think it was a good choice. At eight, both Martin and Tomas joined us, and so the men could take turns, always two carrying some heavy piece and the third one coordinating their efforts.

Meanwhile, I had a responsibility to provide a clear path among already piled up boxes, so that the heavy furniture could be moved into place, and to ensure a satisfactory supply of food and BEER. The latter assignment turned my spirits especially up, for a young cashier girl at Beverages, & more hesitated to sell me a double six-pack of Czechvar (a re-branded original Czech Budweiser), and demanded my ID to see that I was over twenty-one. What a great feeling, we're all "young and beautiful".

By noon, everything was on its place (including one fresh scratch on a hall wall), and I could deploy an umbrella (a present from Martina), and serve beer, bread and salami on our back yard. The final phase of a move is always the best.

[Previous] [Home] [Next] [Write] [Česká verze]