Unpacking the POD

Our POD came this morning at about 9am. I was having a rough morning (hopelessness shows up for me most often in the morning), wondering when our finances or life will ever be the same. Phil said, “You don’t look very good—almost despairing.” That was the way I felt, like a smile would be a lie, or an impossibility. So, lest these emails make you think that all is glowing and perfect, don’t be completely fooled: a once-a-week bath, an impossible house situation, money enough (assuming my retirement really does come through as it should) for one more month—it makes for a grumpy mama.

So we went to the bank. Four grubby children (Jonadab in just a diaper and dirty shirt), filthy mama with the one pair of shorts I could find held up by a clothespin, boundlessly optimistic husband ready to deal with bank tellers—we were a sight to behold. But there was no great news at the bank, so we headed to the post office, hoping to buy some envelopes so we could mail some bills. But the window was closed—apparently, in small towns, postal workers can take off for lunch but don’t have to post the times. I was even more defeated.

Back at home, I ran the numbers and determined that we have enough, barring major expenses, for one more month. So, if on September 15th, when Carly’s contract expires, we will have to take action—of some sort. As Scarlet O’Hara would say (paraphrased), “I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

But knowing that there should be money for the month is very encouraging! Phil had hurt his foot badly in Colorado—he hopes he didn’t break it, stepping off the curb unexpectedly while watering the lawn—but it has hurt him every day. But, wonderful man that he is, he decided he could stand on it enough to at least get out the dressers. Which was huge, because with dressers, I can actually assess the clothes situation for myself and four sons! I can find underwear easily! I can get them clean clothes! And, it would help me feel more at home in our little trailer.

Once we got out the dressers, we decided to go ahead with the bookcase. It is 7’ tall, and the roof here is 7’. Unfortunately, there is the little matter of tilting a piece of furniture upright—it makes the height taller temporarily. Somehow Phil realized that the roof deflects more in the middle of the trailer, and he forced that bookcase upright, and then shoved it into place. We laughed because I said, “I don’t think we need to tie that bookcase down,” and he said, “Yeah, I had been wondering if that was needed, but then I realized that bookcase is going nowhere.”

And once the bookcase was out, the POD was almost halfway empty, so he decided he may as well press on. It was a warm day (92) but not too much direct sun, and no rain, which is a definite plus.



I forgot how many books I have. So many boxes had to return, unopened, into the storage part of the trailer. So many more had to be peaked at, caressed, and put away. That is the most difficult part of this unpacking/repacking part. I know a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions, but those books are a piece of me! (Oh, and I have a good quote about that, by G. Seferis: “Don't ask who's influenced me. A lion is made up of the lambs he's digested, and I've been reading all my life.”)

But, on the positive side, although I know my life does not consist in the abundance of my possessions, I feel so greatly pleased and at peace that so many of my possessions are accessible again! I have my work cut out for me tomorrow, though, to put books back on bookshelves, and clothes back in drawers. I look forward to it.

Other unpacking notes of interest: Jonadab had been playing near one of our water tubs (actually a camping gear tub temporarily filled with water). While our backs were turned, he fell in, and immediately popped up, spluttering and coughing. What amazing presence of mind, for the one year old to stand up when submerged. Go baby! (And more than that, thank you, Lord, for protecting our little son. It is not an exaggeration to say that death is near at hand, and the Lord protected him this day.)

I was really running out of steam a little after 7pm. I can lug books with the best of them, but I dreaded moving the wall unit. I tried moving it out to the POD with Phil, but he basically did it himself. This would be a different beast: moving it up a stepladder and through a small doorway. I knew Doug Bush was coming to help (he offered), and prayed hard that he would come before it was time to move the wall unit. He came with about a minute to spare, and I was very thankful.

Doug and Phil then kept moving things. We had a huge pile of stuff (mostly books) stacked on a tarp on the gravel. I told whether it needed to go in the house, the office, or deep storage, and Doug moved it for me. What a deep relief.

We fell asleep in the same room we always do, but this night it was crowded with boxes and dressers and the wall unit—what lot of furniture fit!