The move had finally been arranged, meaning we've actually spent money on it and set a pickup date. We're not really sure what the delivery date will be, since the movers gave us a ten day window. The bank will suffer a rather severe bloodletting on Friday when we settle the balance, but fortunately that is also payday, so recovery should be relatively swift.
So far it seems like we have a pretty good deal, but I'll believe it when I see it. There were still a few hiccups along the way, things I wouldn't have even thought about. So many difficulties arise out of not being physically present with the items we're attempting to move. After the contract was signed and the deposit was paid, we were sent an extensive form regarding the Gypsy Moth Inspection we were supposed to conduct before shipping our goods across the sacrosanct California state line. We were informed that if we did not complete the form - in duplicate - with an itemized list of what we were shipping and the appropriate signatures certifying that we have inspected all our worldly possessions and destroyed all the gypsy moths, the Department of Agriculture would quarantine our things at the border. I didn't see any moths eight months ago when I last saw my things, but I don't think that would satisfy the angry farmers. Besides, we don't have anything as extravagant as a printer yet, the neighbors' printer didn't work, and the computers David has access to at work are all property of the US government and don't allow anyone to open attachments. Apparently there's a computer lab at the library here on base, but I've looked for it several times and I'm convinced it doesn't still exist. Fortunately, when I finally got the movers on the phone again, they said it actually wasn't a big deal and nobody really cared who filled out the paperwork, so I just sent the whole email to the in-laws. Movers are supposed to call me on Friday to tell us when the truck will be coming on Saturday.
By this point, I feel like we're trying to ransom our stuff back, just waiting for the next phone call, the next set of instructions, the next pay out.
"IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR HOUSEHOLD GOODS AGAIN, PAY $1,295 BY CHECK OR CREDIT CARD, AND SUBMIT TEN PAGES OF CERTIFIED PROOF OF THE DEMISE OF ALL GYPSY MOTHS . . ."
All this happened while we were babysitting our neighbors' dogs, the rat terrier and the dachshund. Just to make matters more interesting, that afternoon we discovered a quivering mass of helplessness hiding under the car; another dachshund, chocolate brown, lost and alone in the world. So, for the moment we have a dog, and her name is Tootsie. She had no collar, no tags, and every indication of having been dumped. Apparently she has expensive tastes, and won't touch dry dog food. After being with us for a few days she's finally started to act normal again, and despite her undeniable cuteness she's off to the shelter tomorrow.