The storage container arrived empty. That was the easy part.
I had booked it for the Cold Spring house after deciding the lease no longer worked with all the California travel. The plan required a little choreography. Movers would start at a storage unit in Poughkeepsie, bring everything to Cold Spring, load it into the container, then use whatever time remained to pull more out of the house.
I got there by bike.
Friday morning started with a 65-mile ride north from the city. I described it in one work email as a ride to the old house to shut it down. The photographs trace the route over the George Washington Bridge, along the Hudson, and into the hills above the river.
Saturday was for packing and waiting on the container. Sunday was supposed to handle the heavy lifting and transport. By the end of the weekend, a lot had moved, but the move itself was not finished.
I sent a status note that night: we were not out of the house, but we had gotten a ton of stuff out and consolidated. The portable container was in the drive. Furniture and other things we did not need were stacked neatly outside for a garbage and salvage crew.
Inside, the house was nearly empty except for the basement. It was clear enough for listing photographs and showings. I offered to send cleaners early in the week and left enough furniture for the place to work while it was being shown.
That still was not the same thing as being gone. I expected to stay there again in two weeks, and more cleanup remained. Later in the month I arranged to have the outside pile removed, then extended the lease through the end of May to take some pressure off the last part of the move.
The container had filled up. The house was mostly empty. I still had another weekend of moving ahead of me.