I swear to you, on Sunday evening, December 18th, the eve of our moving day…I became almost as ill as I was when I got back from Paris. I’ll spare you the details…but Nanny Rigsby…our new hero and personal savior…went to meet the movers by himself Monday morning at storage and oversaw the whole move.
He said, ‘I’m British. I love telling people what to do. I’m born and bred for it really.’
I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay him, or any one of our amazing friends and family who came through for us during this weird, perfect storm of 2011.
Monday afternoon, when I finally dragged my feverish, nauseous self out of Jane (after cleaning, packing and sorting out the baby) I got to the new place and this is what it looked like…
But by Tuesday evening, we (even though I had eaten nothing but applesauce) had it looking like this…he did ALL of the Christmas decorating.
The bedrooms, however, still looked like this…
If you were wondering if that photo above is of a life size cut-out of Michael, you would be correct. It is. And if you were also thinking…did the movers stop and take pictures of each other with their arms around said cut-out? They did.
Rigsby has a fantastically bizarre obsession with Chinatown. So on Friday, before he left I told him I would take him to the restaurant of his choosing downtown. So of course he leads me down to some crazy place that I couldn’t even find again if I tried. It had no sign and just a couple of escalators heading up to nowhere.
When you got to the top of the escalators you were let out into a room capable of seating 1200 people. It was ridiculous. 1200 people? It was like 3 city blocks long. There were women with carts pushing around soup and dim sum and boiled chicken’s feet. You would take something and they would mark it off on your bill. We must had had 25 different things. When the bill came it was only $30.00. Classic Nanny Rigsby.
After he left I was so sad. We missed him so much. BUT—there was work to be done and Christmas to be had and a plane to catch on Christmas day to see Michael in Texas.
I had the opportunity to upgrade to first class for a small fee on that Christmas day flight, and dear Reader, I took it. It was glorious. When we arrived in Texas, Michael and his family scooped up the baby and I went to bed at 7pm and slept for 16 hours.