How Not to Move: A Mover’s Diary – Part Four

To bring you up to speed on the series so far, Part One gave insight into our decision to move and our lack of preparation. Part Two gave a brief summary of who was involved in this trip and the first half of our journey. In Part three, we finally got to eat, which was both a good and bad thing. Allow me to share the final chapter of this harrowing true story:

We Really Did Make It!

Much to my surprise, we did finally make it to Seaside. I was so relieved and all I really wanted to do was get in the house and rest, maybe take a hot bath, and get these nasty children cleaned up. We pulled up to the house behind my dad, and I noticed that there was a car in the driveway. I suppose that in a way, I expected our new landlords to be there when we arrived to give us the keys and sign the lease. What I found when I walked in the door was so much worse.

All of their personal belongings were still in the house! They knew that we were on our way and had done little to nothing to prepare for this, such as, I don’t know, getting their stuff out of there so we could actually move in? Little did I know that my dad had offered to let them use our U-Haul to move their things to their new house!

I felt so defeated and weary; this move had literally been one disaster after another since the very onset. On top of everything that we already had to go through, we now had to figure out how to move into a house that the owners had not yet moved out of.

Jeff and I started unpacking the truck, putting our things into the only empty bedroom available. This is also where we all slept that night. I cried. I wished that we had just stayed in Medford and I couldn’t see any positive aspect to this move whatsoever (besides the Taco Bell).

The next day, we finished getting everything out of the truck, but our work was not done. Our new landlords commissioned us to help them move. And we didn’t really feel that we had much choice in the matter since, left to their own devices, they’d probably never leave. Jeff and my dad did most of the helping and it was my job to keep the kids in the bedroom in order to keep them from “getting in the way” (landlord’s words, not mine). I then had to accompany my dad to the couple’s new house in Vancouver, Washington to unload their belongings from the truck, clean the inside of the truck, and return it to a U-Haul office in Portland.

Think it Couldn’t Get Any Worse? Think Again!

When I had come up to Seaside with my dad two weeks before we actually moved, this house was cluttered. After all, the couple had been living here for 12 years. Not only was it cluttered, it was filthy. Not only did they have 12 years worth of clutter amassed, they also had two large dogs. This became an issue after they finally got their stuff out of here and we could truly see the damage that had been done.

I firmly believe that this house was not cleaned a single time in all the years that they lived here – not even when they moved out. They left us their twelve year mess to deal with. The carpeting had a thick layer of dog hair attached to it, and was worn to the pad in a number of places where the dogs had scratched away at it. The mini-blinds on the windows were grimy and dusty, some of which had also been damaged by the dogs.

The walls all throughout the house were absolutely disgusting. It was as if there had been small children with dirty hands all over the place, even though they had none. The worst part about the walls is that they painted with a flat paint. Every time I went to scrub the dirt off the wall, the only thing that came off on the sponge was paint.

The kitchen was so foul that I’m not quite sure how to describe it. One example is that when I came up here with my dad prior to moving, there was not a single surface in the kitchen that was clear of dirty dishes. I suspect that they did nothing more than pack the dirty dishes; they certainly didn’t clean the counter tops afterward. The other example took place about a month ago. I was looking for a pan in the drawer below the oven and thought that it may have fallen behind the drawer. Upon pulling the drawer out, I found an old plate, that wasn’t mine, that appeared to have old, crusty dog food on it. Later, I found a picture of the kitchen that the couple had sent to me before we moved, and lo and behold, there was that plate! This thing had been stuck up under the stove/oven for the better part of two and a half years!

It took us several days after we got them out of here to clean this house. We did the best we could with the walls, steam cleaned all of the carpeting, and washed down all of the surfaces. Even then, it stunk like wet dog in here for a long time.

So there it is – our absolutely horrid moving experience. I can only hope and pray that nothing even close to this will happen during our next move, and I hope I’ve helped you in some odd way with this scary story.

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