Liquor boxes are the best.
They are sturdy, a good size. They are made for toting heavy valuables. They are free.
Should you see my husband driving around, hitting up all the liquor stores in town, do not be alarmed.
Should you see the kids and me in our Sunday best sitting in the car outside the liquor store, waiting for Daddy to return, it's not what you think.
Should you walk into my living room and see what appears to be twenty cases of good vodka stacked on our hearth, you will be disappointed if you think we are planning some sort of swank party. I don't know how to mix a cocktail. In fact, the only cocktails I know are the names I've read in books. Nerd, I know. It's the kind of nerd I'm all right to be, though.
The truth is, Mama has been hitting the hard stuff again.
The hard stuff like that cupboard under the stairs that has been a repository for random and useless things for the last five years.
The hard stuff like trying to determine which of my babies' priceless works of art to part with.
The hard stuff like resisting the urge to sit down and read all of the letters from friends and family that I have saved for the last 20 years or so.
The hard stuff like sneaking broken toys and cherished junk to Goodwill when no one is looking.
So it's my fault. I've sent my husband out to the liquor stores. It's me. I'm the one who's been holed up in the house, ignoring my kids, too dirty to be seen by the general public, hitting the hard stuff and hitting it hard.
My husband comes back loaded with gems that make my head spin: Grand Marnier, Goldschlager, Seagram's, Smirnoff. I exclaim with exhausted, half-sick glee over them and hoard them to myself, telling everyone to go away and leave me to it. I just need them to get me through this time. I'll quit in a month. I won't need them after that. I promise.
In a few weeks, we'll load it all back on the wagon. I'll be done with it all. I'll send them on their way. It will be back to business as usual. I will quit and I will enjoy the summer outdoors, I will play with my kids, I will socialize with friends again. I may even shower and shave. In a few weeks. For now, I'm hitting the hard stuff. Please excuse the mess.
Liquor boxes are the best.
They are sturdy, a good size. They are made for toting heavy valuables. They are free.
Should you see my husband driving around, hitting up all the liquor stores in town, do not be alarmed.
Should you see the kids and me in our Sunday best sitting in the car outside the liquor store, waiting for Daddy to return, it's not what you think.
Should you walk into my living room and see what appears to be twenty cases of good vodka stacked on our hearth, you will be disappointed if you think we are planning some sort of swank party. I don't know how to mix a cocktail. In fact, the only cocktails I know are the names I've read in books. Nerd, I know. It's the kind of nerd I'm all right to be, though.
The truth is, Mama has been hitting the hard stuff again.
The hard stuff like that cupboard under the stairs that has been a repository for random and useless things for the last five years.
The hard stuff like trying to determine which of my babies' priceless works of art to part with.
The hard stuff like resisting the urge to sit down and read all of the letters from friends and family that I have saved for the last 20 years or so.
The hard stuff like sneaking broken toys and cherished junk to Goodwill when no one is looking.
So it's my fault. I've sent my husband out to the liquor stores. It's me. I'm the one who's been holed up in the house, ignoring my kids, too dirty to be seen by the general public, hitting the hard stuff and hitting it hard.
My husband comes back loaded with gems that make my head spin: Grand Marnier, Goldschlager, Seagram's, Smirnoff. I exclaim with exhausted, half-sick glee over them and hoard them to myself, telling everyone to go away and leave me to it. I just need them to get me through this time. I'll quit in a month. I won't need them after that. I promise.
In a few weeks, we'll load it all back on the wagon. I'll be done with it all. I'll send them on their way. It will be back to business as usual. I will quit and I will enjoy the summer outdoors, I will play with my kids, I will socialize with friends again. I may even shower and shave. In a few weeks. For now, I'm hitting the hard stuff. Please excuse the mess.
Liquor boxes are the best.
Liquor boxes are the absolute best for books! Good luck with the move.
ReplyDelete(Did you get the house that you wrote to the owners about?)
We did not get that house, but we got a better one. There's a whole story to it I should tell sometime.
DeleteEnjoy the circus!! LOL Seriously, those are indeed the tough decisions. Best wishes in all of your work. And I must say, from the title I thought you meant gourmet coffee.
ReplyDeleteGourmet coffee is a given around here no matter what's going on!
DeleteMy dad used to run all over town for liquor boxes, too! So frickin' sturdy! Here's to a low-stress move (is that even possible?).
ReplyDeleteThanks for the well-wishes. There's always that one day where you are loading the truck and you open that drawer that's full of crap you completely forgot about, but we've moved so many times. We're pretty good at it.
DeleteThe liquor boxes make me giggle. It looks like we've been partying pretty hard around here between the mess and the boxes!
Thank God for the hard stuff. Such decisions. To risk carelessly shedding a precious piece of past–one that might be looked for again and again–or scrabbling the rest of one's life like a scarab beetle pushing balls of stinking cast off memories up a hill? Such weight. I ultimately close my eyes and toss or keep, consequences be damned. The existential question is too much to bear. Hard stuff indeed.
ReplyDeleteI do the same thing. Ponder, ponder, ponder and then just toss. It's not as if I'm throwing away the kids themselves.
DeleteI remember going with my mom to find boxes behind the liquor store. Those are the good ones.
ReplyDeleteMuch luck with the move. That's so exciting!
I know this phase ... I usually have to start ages before the move because I don't resist the urges and sit down and end up playing and going through my stuff. It's actually fun. :)
ReplyDeleteGood luck, TangledLou! Hope you guys have a wonderful moving experience. Happy for you!
Liquor boxes are the best. Enjoy, have fun (as much as you can), and know we're all here rooting for you!
ReplyDeleteThey are the best! Perfect for not too heavy boxes of books. I really don't know how people move if they don't stalk the liquor store!
ReplyDeleteYay for the move. I disappear for a month and you go and find a better house!!
ReplyDeletePS thanks for the reminder that I have a whole loft of kids things I really should go through at some point and thanks for the tip about liquor boxes, I'll remember that one!