Moving Day

If you happen to see anything like this while wandering about Paris, there's only one explanation: it's moving day for somebody. When I saw this lift last week, I realized I hadn't blogged about the technology of a Paris move because our own move took place before I started this blog. And so it happened that one year ago this week, a semi came down our street laden with all our household goods shipped from Washington. After quite a few weeks living with just some borrowed basics (4 forks, 4 spoons, 4 plates, you get the picture), it was quite a thrill to finally have the things that make a house a home: kitchen gadgets, linens, artwork, books, and our very own beds. The amazing thing about the whole process (well other than having someone else do all the packing and heavy lifting, a first for us) was watching the crew unload the boxes out of the truck and onto a lift like the one pictured here, sending it up four flights and handing it in through the window. While I couldn't bring myself to look when they put our piano on the lift, I find myself riveted whenever I wander by someone else's move in progress. I've heard some horror stories, including one in which an impatient driver got so annoyed at the equipment blocking the street that he barreled his car straight through the street, hitting the lift and sending its load flying. Fair warning.