So, we moved on Saturday. D got a great big truck (which he actually has a license to drive - how cool is that?) and we did the whole Amsterdam house-hook-pulley-thingy out the window.
Here's how it was different from moving in America:
* The people who said they'd come to help actually showed up.
* No one bailed early.
* My neighbor INSISTED on watching the kids for me. Not for half the day. All day. Longer if necessary.
* All our shit dangled three stories over the street from a rope and no one even acted like it was weird.
And most incredibly...
* Our friends couldn't bear to leave the new house until it was all set up.
I couldn't believe the lack of whining. I really couldn't. I have moved a few times, and I have helped others move, and there has always been whining. "WHERE does this have to go?", "HOW many flights?", "Are we almost done?", "Don't we need more beer...?"
It went more smoothly than imaginable, and we couldn't have been happier.
We were planning on tossing everything in the main living space and then sorting it through the next few days. My mother-in-law and our (heretofore dear) friend wouldn't have any of it.
I went to bed exhausted at 11:30 and the house looked like this:
When I came down the next morning at 6 (I have an infant, remember?) It looked like this:
And let's not forget my sons' room:
This is less than 20 hours after we started moving. Do I have the greatest mother-in-law and friends, or what? I did cry a little. More than once.
I normally would be freaked out about posting something as personal as pictures of my house on the Internet, but it was so frigging impressive that the coolness outweighed the skeeviness.
Tomorrow I will put up some pics of the remarkably simple yet ingenious Dutch rope/pulley/truck moving system. It makes too much sense to be used in the US. Well, the in US we have the sense to live sprawled out on one or two floors instead of squeezed into houses as narrow as bread sticks with one room on each level. I guess it evens out.