I spoke too soon when I said that I almost mastered the art of moving. There’s no art in moving unless we sort our belongings according to colors or sizes, which no one, not even I in my OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder) state, will ever do anyway. And we usually pack our stuff according to function, purpose, or area where they would be used, right? And I thought I know a lot about moving. I was so wrong. No one is ever prepared for packing, loading, moving, unloading, and organizing things again. It is very stressful given the fact that we also had to transfer to the new house the other stuff from the garage, living room, dining room and the kitchen which we share with other occupants. Fatigue and exposure to dust got the better of Fred and me. After the transfer, I had severe cough and body pains and had to phone in sick from work for a day. Although moving, like most forms of change, can bring out the best and worst in people, I’m glad I’ve seen moments and gestures wo