It's that time of year again -- Moving Day!

Recently I calculated that I have moved six out of the past seven summers. I assumed that maybe going to Japan would curb the annual tradition, but alas, it was not to be so. By order of the BOE, I had to move from Bentenjima (my little fishing community) to smack-dab-right-in-the-middle of Hamamatsu City. So after a wonderful trip in Houston/Orlando (pictures posted soon), and a harrowing 29 hours of trying to return to Japan, I arrived just in time. At 9:30 on Friday morning, the first wave of movers came -- some of the staff from the BOE. These guys are usually the ones who sit in an office all day pushing paperwork, but here they were ready to attack the apartment. They were great as they carried away all my unwanted (and unfittable-in-the-new-apartment furniture). Away went my bed, my desk, my table, my chairs, my dresser...did I mention that my new apartment is at least 3 times smaller than the old one? Several hours later, the professional guys arrived, and I was totally impressed! Every time I have moved Daddy has been the foreman, but even he would be jealous of the fancy equipment owned by the mover dudes. First, there was the furniture cozies. Padded wraps, you just slipped them over the furniture and they were ready to go (no old blankets necessary!) Here is my saguaro cactus wardrobe with my BOE supervisor. On a funny note -- the wardrobe ended up not fitting through the door in the new place and ended up having to be hauled off too.Once everything was adequately wrapped, the amazing truck backed up in the empty next to my complex. The platform was raised and everything was piled on from the balcony.

Then, when the wardrobe wouldn't fit out the front door of the old apartment, they decided to take it out the back way... (of course the real question is, how did it ever get into the apartment in the first place?)

After a drive across town, everything (minus the wardrobe) was brought up three flights of stairs to the new apartment, but due to its location and a very, very, big glass awning, the poor movers, had to do it the old fashion way. It felt a little cramped and a bit overwhelming, but I shouldn't have worried. The third set of movers -- my LOLs from church --arrived early the next morning with breakfast in tow! Let me tell you, these two 69 and 72-year-old ladies, respectively, are amazing. They attacked the kitchen with a vengeance, moved furniture, sorted knives (some how I ended up with over 10 really dangerous-looking knives), gave decorating advice, washed cabinets, compressed suitcases, micro-managed small spaces, stacked books.... offering more help than I could have ever imagined! When I told them how grateful my parents were that I had two Japanese mothers they replied, "We would like to imagine ourselves as your older sisters not mothers!"