Deborah Woehr

Things were running smoothly with the move until last weekend. Then we found out that moving my mother-in-law out and into her mobile home was going to be a bigger undertaking than we first imagined. The garage is still full of memorabilia and stuff that she has no room for.

So my husband rented a dumpster to get rid of the latter. Well, yesterday he went over to the house and saw that there was no dumpster. That upset him immediately. What made it worse was the notice from the city, stating that they are going to close the street from Mon-Wed so the can repave it.

That puts a big crimp in our schedule. The painter is supposed to come out on the twenty-fifth. After that, we’re having the floors redone. We decided to put off tenting the house because there is no time to tear out the overgrowth in the front and back yards.

Yesterday, I was beginning to think that our moving into that house is a big mistake. Too many things are going wrong. This morning, my husband started talking about omens when his back went out. He’s fine now, with a little help from Advil.

I’m reminded of that movie called Money Pit, which starred Tom Hanks and Shelley Long. It was a black comedy about a couple who were moving into their first home, which involved working on a major fixer-upper. The one scene I remember vividly was the clawfoot bathtub falling through the ceiling and shattering on the first floor.

We don’t have it that bad. At least I hope not, lol.