Yesterday I started to go through the basement in a weak attempt at figuring out what we’re moving, what’s staying and what we should give away. Alot of the things sitting in the basement are mine, which I haven’t unpacked from when we got married.
So, I started to open up boxes and label things in anticipation of the movers. Let me set the scene: boxes upon boxes upon boxes, arranged precariously in a fortress-like structure which at any moment, could crash down to my impending doom. Or at least to my impending frustration. Plenty of my things had been in boxes for the past 5 years, since I moved to the DC area. Heck, they never left the box they had resided in since they moved out of my parents basement. Boxes of college textbooks? Check. Random shoes with no mate? Check. A bottle of shampoo? Check. Horseback riding equipment I completely forgot about? Double check.
Among the fray, there were some small gems packed at the bottom of a big tupperware tote. A photo of me from 1991 or 92 at Okemo Ski Resort, ready to take on the slopes:
And my medal from the Big Wheel 500 (which I actually found video of on YouTube…crazy, right?)
What have you found while you were packing?