Our plan was simple.  Wayne and I  were to fly to Florida,  sign closing papers on our new house, pack up the condo, tag items for the movers, and meet them at our new place. Sounds simple, right? Haul a carload or two of clothes and maybe a few boxes of books, some knitting paraphernalia and a bottle or two of wine.  

Are you laughing yet?  It took three days to pack up the condo and an entire day for the moving company to make the transition.  And almost none of it was furniture!  Where in the name of heaven did all that  "stuff"  come from?  (I used the word stuff—I won’t tell you what Wayne called it.)  By the time we reached the Orlando airport on Sunday afternoon to fly back to Washington state,  we were both limping and full of aches and pains.

Even the simplest of moves isn’t for sissies.