8.12.2007

Ship Or Get Off The Pot....

You know you have an indecision problem when you find yourself at 4am in the kitchen, mixing a bottle for your nine month old, and mulling over the sturdy but weathered pyrex pitcher in your hand.

Do I ship the pitcher?

If I ship the pitcher before we actually leave the house, will I
need the pitcher?

Is the pitcher valuable enough to warrant shipping?


How much does Tesco's charge for a pitcher (sorry,
jug...) in England?

Does the pitcher mean anything to me emotionally? Spiritually?
In England, when I use it to measure out a spot of gravy for my Yorkshires, will doing so immediately prompt a proust-like onslaught of sensory pasts? Of 4am feedings, and weening, and a time when, in my all-American kitchen, I mulled over what each and every object and whether its nostalgic resonance far outweighed its monetary value?

A time when I quite naturally called a jug a pitcher?


Four weeks and five days to go... Right now I am fretting almost constantly over what to ship to England. What parts of our life From Here do we pay oodles of money to transport Over There? Are we silly to even ship large items like our bed and our dining room table in the first place? How do we make this decision when we don't even have a clue where we will live yet, or if it will fit a gorgeous but gargantuan American King-Sized bed (made by my husband from scratch) that will likely take up every spare inch of a tiny British master bedroom?

Remember this? It became this:


How can we say bye bye to that?

My oldest and dearest friend Jill has been up to visit from St Louis this weekend, and her dogged rationality has helped me work through this paralyzing state. It's time to make a decision and just go with it. So in a couple of weeks, we will let the international movers come in and crate up those belongings that we would like to have on the other end. We will be rugless, table-less, and no doubt sore-backed from nights on blowup mattresses and days carting belongings out the house for the endless garage sale I am anticipating.

Let the culling begin.

(But tell me. Do I ship the pitcher?
)

39 comments:

cinnamon gurl said...

OMG! I am drooling over your bedroom... and the little Aiden fantasy. My husband is not handy AT ALL and has shown absolutely zero interest in getting in touch with his inner Aiden.

What a gorgeous bed. Most certainly ship-worthy. The pitcher? Well, since you asked, not so much. Good luck getting through the next several weeks.

Sandra said...

Forget the pitcher. You will have lots of lovely jugs waiting for you.

This aspect of the move ... what to bring and what to take from your *life* hadn't even crossed my mind. Now I am feeling stressed out FOR you. Thank goodness for rational, helpful friends like Jill :)

flutter said...

You can find another pyrex in England :)

That bed, however? Friggin gorgeous.

ewe are here said...

Well, I'd probably ditch the pitcher and keep the bed... even though you're right about the shipping costs. I shipped my personal belongings here from Hawaii, so I culled rather ruthlessly... there are a few things I regret, but not too much.

Motherhood Uncensored said...

I think you need to have an auction.

Does the pitcher speak with a sexy accent?

doow said...

Never mind kitchenware, have you decided whether you're going to ship the menfolk?

slouching mom said...

take the bed, of course, though i do hope it fits in the new (as yet hypothetical) bedroom. oops, that probably didn't make you feel better, did it.

i don't envy you these decisions.

thinking of you.

mothergoosemouse said...

Leave the pitcher, ship the bed.

Seriously, that bed was a labor (labour?) of love, and even if it fills your UK bedroom completely, I'm betting you will be glad that you have it.

mamatulip said...

No. Don't ship the pitcher. You can get one in jolly ol' England. Right?

Ship the bed, though. Damn right. Ship that bed.

Mary Tsao said...

Your bedroom is beautiful and your husband and his bed sound like keepers. A handmade bed?! That's an heirloom. Plus if you tried to sell it, it would suck to haggle with some douche bags over the price ala your minivan.

Now, if you had bought all of your furniture at IKEA like I do, you'd have no problem ditching all of it and starting over. (Something I often consider and I'm not even moving!)

Lawyer Mama said...

That is a beautiful bed. And you will keep it forever. That's a no brainer. Keep the bed.

Lose the pitcher.

SUEB0B said...

Naw. Carry the pitcher under your arm on the airplane.

Redneck Mommy said...

How's this...you keep the pitcher and I'll buy the bed...

What? No deal?

Sheesh...I tell you...no appreciation for a creative Canadian solution. You Brits are so damn picky...

Gunfighter said...

Don't ship it... at least, not to the UK.

Ship it to me for a cathartic Shoot 'em up Friday!

Thats where the fun is, baby!

GF

Gunfighter said...

Oh... and that's not a bed! That's a rugby pitch!

BOSSY said...

Only ship the things you can't imagine losing in, say, a House Fire. Or a cross-continental move. Either imagery is fine.

(don't ship the pitcher)

Suzanne said...

My house burned last year on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend, and we lost nearly everything. Of the few things that did survive, my grandmother's dresser and chest of drawers survived, and thank God, because she died the year before and I had just brought them home to live with me. This is the bedroom furniture my mother used as a child...lots of family ties in these pieces of wood.

All that to say, I shed not a tear over the things we lost in the fire (not even over my 7, yes, count them, 7 computers and all their data.) However, had those two pieces not been restored from the smoke damage they suffered, I'd have a hurting heart still now, over a year later. Same with the cabinet my dad made for me - it was one of the lucky resurrected, as well.

I agree with what Bossy said - the imagery of what your heart would hurt over were it lost in a fire is a great culling tool - especially if you've actually had the experience.

Ship the bed, even if it is too big for where you end up. If that happens, store it somewhere. Don't let those labors of love go.

gingajoy said...

thank you, people. you may not realize it, but you're really helping. Suzanne--your comment resonated the most. I hope that that frigging bed holds my dry old bones decades from now...

OH GOD I AM SO MAUDLIN AND SENTIMENTAL RIGHT NOW.

gingajoy said...

also. Suebob. you might be on to something... (heh)

Heather B. said...

For all that is good and holy, do not ship the pitcher. This coming from a girl who left her barely functioning and unnecessary computer monitor at her old apartment and then fretted the entire drive about leaving her monitor. Of course upon arrival I was all "I have my MacBook and need nothing else in this world." So happy I left the monitor and useless non-functioning laptop.

Elizabeth said...

If you would like, I would be happy to place the pitcher lovingly in my china cabinet, and send you monthly updates: "This month, your pitcher watched as the boys started a new year of school, and Kaitlyn perfected the art of the high-pitched shriek", etc. I just want to help, dear.

Mom101 said...

Ship the pitcher.

And fuck that's a nice looking bedroom. Where are the piles of shit on the floor? WHERE ARE THE PILES???

Mom101 said...

Heh heh...

Sandra said jugs.

Julie Pippert said...

You probably don't need to ship the pitcher. (But oooh yes, the bed!)

Or...keep these useful but questionable objects, and if at the end you are still indecisive, ask a friend to hang on to them for you. If, once you get there, you MUST have it, ship it. If not, let friend keep it, donate it, or sell it in a yard sale. :)

Gorgeous room. I feel for you. Hang in there!!

Julie
Ravin' Picture Maven

karrie said...

Yup, ship the bed. Even if you are not able to use it immediately, you may find yourself with more space at some point in the future.

It is rather amazing how much we accumulate and develop attachments to, isn't it?

You could always sign on for an episode of Bargain Hunt. Replacing your lost American jugs sounds like a good angle. :)

Glennia said...

When we moved from Texas to California (which is like moving to another country, but don't get me started on that) the movers packed EVERYTHING. Yes, we opened boxes to find our Texas laundry room trash inside. Now we have Texas-sized crap in a tiny California condo.

Ship the bed. The bed is awesome. Skip the pitcher, or give it to Elizabeth. I'm sure she'll take good care of it.

Antonia said...

Bring the bed. British beds are tiny. We had a giant mattress made when it looked like the baby was never going to sleep on her own and Ian built the base for it, but it's nowhere near as lovely as your home-made bed. But it's not just that: there's nothing like your own bed that feels and smells right and you'll miss it if you leave it behind.

A one-litre Pyrex measuring JUG will set you back about six quid (or £4 for a 500ml size). And I've got an amazing recipe for Yorkshires that'll make your arteries cry.

Tere said...

I don't know what to do about the pitcher, but ship that bed!! Even if it takes up your whole house (uh, flat?), it's worth it!

moosh in indy. said...

OH THE BED,mmmm, ditch the pitcher. If your luck is anything like mine it will break on the trip over there anyway.

Birchsprite said...

Bed - yes

Pitcher (eek) - no

We have lots of lovely jugs in England (as you well know!) ((snigger))

Angie said...

I love your blog, I came to it in a roundabout way from Ricedaddies, and I am so glad I did.

This Black woman of Essex will be visiting every day, so please keep posting.

Ozma said...

No advice. I develop attachment to wine corks so I'm no help here.

But hang in there--you continue to amaze me. How do you do it Joy?

Ozma said...

No advice. I develop attachment to wine corks so I'm no help here.

But hang in there--you continue to amaze me. How do you do it Joy?

AliBlahBlah said...

Husband, kids and bed - keep

Pitcher - toss, everyone knows women have much better jugs in England.

Jozet said...

Ship the pitcher to England.

Ship the bed to me.

Seriously.

That bed is flippin' marvelous!

And of course, ship the pitcher. You've written about it. You've gleaned Muse from it. Give it to a friend who you don't want to lose contact with and tell them they have to bring the pitcher with them when they visit.

Bon said...

late to the party, but giggling about the Proust-like sensory past that one must consider whether or not particular objects are likely to prompt. a very important question, indeed.

so i wanna know what you decided about the pitcher. :)

Fairly Odd Mother said...

Of course, you must ship the pitcher. Inevitably, someone will come to visit you in England and will say, "Hey! Let me see that pitcher!".

bitemycookie said...

still got the bed. jettison it for sure. to my bedroom. we need something luxurious like that. room for 12? we'll take it. well, not that we'd put 12 in the bed, mind you...

listen, this shit is only as complicated as you make it. if you can't decide in 7 seconds what to so with something, ditch it.

travel light and party hard.
xodt

neva said...

you know... i've been hearing the rumors of your imminent departure -- which is why, i suppose, i haven't been by of late. i can't BEAR the thoughts of you NOT being a hop, skip, and 4 (or is it 5) states over.

ship the pitcher. you WILL find one just as nice, but it won't be the same. trust me -- we've moved no fewer than 13 times in the past 20 years (never across the "pond", but most certainly across the country and back) and my OLD favorites are my ALWAYS favorites. not sure why, guess it's a "comfort zone" thing. whatever... ship the pitcher. worst case scenario, it breaks and you have to buy a new one, anyway. oh, and as for the bed? well, of course you ship the bed! duh. ; ) xox