Packing a Life into Six Suitcases

10 Sept 2010 - Later

I just love that title! Unfortunately, I didn't have the sense to take a picture of all six checked bags (including Greg's golf clubs) or a picture of the cat lying in one.

Packing was tough.

First of all, Heath and Katie will be renting our house (complete with our cat and dog) for the next two or three years and so I got rid of a lot of stuff including my kiln.  I debated long and hard as to whether I should sell Tiny the Freedom Mobile (my 2006 Toyota Tundra, full cab, long body gas guzzler) but decided what the hell! By the time we finish here, maybe I can convince Greg to retire to some island in Belize where everyone gets around using golf carts.  Mind you, Greg is holding onto his decade old Porsche.

Having made the decisions on what to chuck, I was left with the choices of what to pack. This was made harder by Katie staunchly vetoing all kinds of stuff. I had to wait 'til she went to work each day to sneak it back in.  I told you I should have packed more office supplies, Katie!

Okay, here's where we get to the bottom dime! Things here are very, very expensive.  The Swiss franc is about on par with the US dollar so it makes it very easy to have a heart attack whenever you try to buy a few office and household supplies.

So ... when we had all 6 checked bags packed, daughter Katie and her hubby Heath and I all flew over to Zurich to join Greg who had come over early for a retreat with the ETH group he'll be working with. We had hired a chauffeur driven van to schlep all of our stuff but were instead met with an apologetic dude who explained there had been a mix up and all he had was a car. Since our stuff obviously wasn't going to fit, Heath broke the rules and grabbed a taxi van from the middle of the line. Fortunately, Greg was ready to meet us at the door of the apartment building and he and the kids carried everything up to the third floor (no elevator) while I pretended to be studiously studying a hangnail.

It's been 32 years since I lived in an apartment and we had only seen the outside of this one.

So, while trying to continue to view my wine glass as half full, the half empty part of me was convinced the place would be a dump. Was it? Well, see for yourself as I take you from the front door up five thousand steps to the apartment:

Oops - no pic of 2nd BR. Beds must not have been made!