On Friday, the 500 lb. fridge came upstairs. It didn’t come of its own accord. We had to hire movers to subdue it and lug it against its will up two — um, make that three — sets of stairs…
It was much, much harder than it looks. But no one died.
After what seems like ages of carting furniture and whatnot upstairs, this was the last major item that needed to move so that destruction can finally begin. The abandoned downstairs looks like a parade route after the parade has gone. This calls for pictures. I’ll get right on that.
For the first time since we moved in, we have a fully functioning, albeit temporary, kitchen upstairs. And practically no room to budge between all the contents forced from the bowels of our closets. From worse to worser before things can get betterer.