Puttering, Painting, and Packing

While I may not be technically "moving" I am packing up.  For the 5th time in as many years, I am leaving town. What's different about this "move" other than the obvious - I'm not moving to take a job and rent an apartment/house, is that for the first time, I am not surrounded by boxes and mayhem. It isn't a spotless void by any means, but there has been no packing up of endless boxes, wrapping up the breakables, shuffling through piles and piles of STUFF wondering what the hell to do with it all.  I brought the van home yesterday and started moving in.  There isn't much left to go in, and it only took a couple of hours.  Wayyyyy different than packing up an entire two-bedroom apartment.


I also took the battery from the van.  No small task for a newbie like me.  There was a strap under it, so I had to try and lift it by the two ends of this strap, out of the snug fit it has behind the passenger seat, built in. Batteries are a little heavy.  The connectors were also getting in the way and I didn't have enough hands but eventually I wrestled the battery out of the van and up onto the front step. Now what? I had bought a battery charger yesterday to charge it with, but had never done that before and didn't want to ruin the battery or burn down my current apartment. One fire this year was enough.  So I did what every man out there has rarely done - I read the directions. It seemed pretty straightforward even though at one point I over analyzed the directions.  If you took the manual seriously, you would think I was bringing a neutron bomb into the house.  They scared the hell out of me with such talk of explosions, acid in my face, sparks from electronics and smokers igniting toxic fumes...I had to call for back-up.


With my Dad having passed away last fall, I do not have a current "question man", and I don't want to always be bothering the gentleman I bought the van from.  I could ask my Dad just about anything and he either had the answer or knew where to find it. He also knew how to do just about anything.  So I tried the next best thing - uncles. I called one uncle that has worked on trucks his whole life, and built his own airplane.  He wasn't home, so I moved onto the next uncle, another man who worked on vehicles, and drove trucks most of his life.  He had charged numerous batteries in his lifetime but had no idea what they might be telling me to do.  It was then that I realized I was overcomplicating very simple directions that were broken down into so many steps to prevent those less literate than me from burning down the house with their battery charger.  More education does not always equal common sense.  I had let the process intimidate me into thinking I have to do it EXACTLY as the wrote it.


In any event, the battery is happily charging in the hallway.  I wonder how long it will take...the fan is certainly loud!


The van is nearly packed. I may start bringing some of the dry foods out and seeing what I can fit into the tiny cupboard below the drawer.  I have been brutal in throwing shit away and trying not to load the van up with crap I won't look at or use once while I'm away.


And I didn't do a scrap of painting today...the day got away on me and before I knew it, it was over.