A different take on moving day
Yesterday, part of my take on the world involved those who make a big move. Today, I want to look at the way people locally move. Tomorrow. The national moving day, so much so that one of the big box stores has drawn (more) ire (than usual). The online flyer celebrates Canada Day in nine provinces, and Moving Day in the tenth. Guess you have to be here to appreciate the message.
Turns out that under force of law, leases come to an end on a single date in this province, and that falls less than four hours from now. Come midnight, if you can get a truck and the necessary door keys, everybody takes a step to the right and moves. Not everybody; that would be a slight exaggeration. Son #2 is in the game, though. Third time in four years, if my count is correct. A way to climb upward on the suitable accommodation tree.
The signs, come Tuesday, will be everywhere. Stuff doesn’t always get moved, and the curbs will be full. Picker season, if you have little fear of vermin. Some appliances, I suppose, and a surplus of broken chairs. This city operates at close to complete, in terms of available rental space, and like any game of musical chairs there will be leftovers. People, with their furniture. Hoping that the weather holds up.
When I arrived here (so long ago) my first apartment was already empty, since the move-in date fell at the end of September. The second apartment was a take-over, from a friend, and although he left his brother behind it worked out. The third move was to this house.
