Stuff, and more stuff When we moved it turned out that we had a lot of stuff. Like a

lovely guests + stuff

table + chairs

Stuff, and more stuff

When we moved it turned out that we had a lot of stuff. Like a lot. Like we loaded a u-haul, a truck, and a VW. And still couldn’t quite do it. So the u-haul made a return trip (at $2-a-mile surcharge, it actually required a decision). And then, somehow, our one bedroom apartment exploded into a three-bedroom, two-story, plus basement, house. And that’s how it stayed. The only extras that we brought in were a couch -we were actually driving in the truck when someone put it out and couldn’t pass it up; and also a guest bed, for our lovely friends coming down from NYC for the party. (Yes our world revolved around the party for about 10 days, if you haven’t noticed.)

The thing is, I like stuff. You could say I love stuff. Pretty much any stuff, I’ll take it all – food stuff, kitchen stuff, room stuff, clothes and shoes. Not Sergey. In fact, he doesn’t like stuff at all. Which is why he hasn’t been very happy with me, when I added another table, 4 chairs, and a kitchen cart to our collection 2 days ago. In my defense, we needed chairs, and we needed storage, and I wanted butcher block. I promised to sell the table on craigslist (so far: 1 day, 1 ad on CL, 0 responses).

On a side note, the way our apartment held stuff must mean that I am really at storing stuff – hopefully I will transition my skills well to the house. And hopefully, Sergey won’t even notice!