Like The Prodigal Son...

... my furniture has found its way home. And yes, I did run out to meet it. No fatted calves were harmed in the process of this reunion.

The moving truck did arrive last week on Tuesday. As a double bonus, they actually arrived with my furniture in the truck. (At this point in the game I fully expected them to show up with somebody else's furniture.) Out of all the antiques, artwork, and ancient furniture that could have been destroyed, one brave little generic lamp stepped up and took one for the team, sparing the more sentimental pieces from a piece-ful death and sparing The Liars from my presence in their offices in a 24-hour window.

The week of Moving Day, Mom and Xena (the 65 lb. "puppy") were on-hand to help me settle in the new abode. I was working half-days with my university gig; but even with that break, my mental and physical fatigue put most of the unpacking and organizing burden on Mom. If she hadn't been here, I would still be sleeping in a sea of boxes. I probably would have just thrown some blankets over the boxes and told visitors, "Oh, yes, I've finished unpacking... That? Um, that's an antique bench, but it's not very stable, so you can't sit there."

I do actually have such a bench, so it wouldn't be hard to convince people that I had acquired two of them. Don't worry; if you come visit, I'll make sure that you know which one it is in advance. The real bench, of course...