A Tale of Stuff

Dear Readers,

Holy Hannah.

What a weekend. 

These past four days have been a moving whirlwind, and I've realized that no matter how much you pack, donate and throw away, there is always stuff left.

Always.

And that stuff that is left is the most annoying.  I have made several trips back and forth to my old house to my parents' house (our temperary home) with a trunk full of stuff.  My mother and Hubby have also made these trips.

Shovels, rakes, laundry, toys, luggage, folding balance beams and footballs have all been loaded and unloaded in frigid temperatures.  Our hands have cracked from cleaning chemicals and I haven't dried my hair since sometime last week.

While I'm in the homestretch, I'm going back again this afternoon for a few more items I set aside outside the garage.  

It's the never-ending tale of stuff.

I hate stuff.

Sleeping like a baby,
me