Knots seem to be part of a set of sacred knowledges known only to stevedores, teamsters, and Boy Scouts so when I secured the tarp over the trailer with a set of alternating lark’s heads and two half hitches the onlookers in the moving caravan felt that they had witness something performed in sacred time. The impression of mastery faded quickly when half my knots came undone on the way due to the vibrating of the line which seemed to be made of Teflon. The rest of the trip alternated between 65 and 5 MPH and we reached our target a little before noon.
Then terror struck.
The apartment was listed as on the 3rd floor, but there was a ground floor for parking making it effectively the 4th floor. There was no elevator, and the ceiling heights were such that moving large objects up the stair cases required that hunch/squat/tilt combination that must have been designed by Soviet scientists to most effectively destroy the lower back. A dog was part of the moving party and each time someone went into the apartment it began barking. By counting these canine chimes I determined that it took 11 trips to move everything and thanks to my fitbit, some 5800 steps.