Shrödinger’s Cookie Sheets April 19, 2013Posted by Toy Lady in Family, Musings, random stuff.
Ya’ll know about Shrödinger’s Cat, right? Of course you do.
See, here’s the thing.
Remember how, a couple of years back, Peeps’s mom finally decided to sell the old homestead and move north?
And how finally, more than two years after the closing on the new house, we finally got her in the new house permanently?
She was in that old house a LONG time. And in that time, she’d acquired an awful LOT of stuff.
During the packing and moving process, Mom decided to rent a portable storage container. Not the name-brand ones we see all over the place – some company that had a full-page ad in her local phone book. She spent the better part of her first fall and winter after buying the new house filling that container with miscellaneous and sundry, uh, stuff.
Well, by the next fall, we all agreed that, since she OWNED the two houses, and neither of us was excited about driving back and forth to Jersey all winter, she’d be better off all around if she spent the winter in Rochester, then went back south in the spring to finish the packing job. So she put in the call to the Pod People and directed them to deliver her container to the new house bright and early one fall day, which they did.
Only . . . when they opened the unit, it wasn’t her stuff. They’d sent some random person’s stuff. And her stuff was nowhere to be found.
The company looked – or at least they said they did, but somehow, there was some sort of glitch, and they had NO IDEA where the storage container with her number on it had ended up.
So. It’s six months later, and it’s time to get serious about moving her. She went back “home” to finish packing, and by “finish packing” I mean, well, I’m not really sure what she was doing, but I’m pretty sure that there was very little actual packing involved.
Keeping in mind that this was a very difficult move for her – she was leaving her home of nearly 35 years to move to New York State, of all places. But still – that house wasn’t going to pack itself.
And again, with near-constant encouragement from both Peeps and me, she finally decided to hire a moving company – this time, she went with a company she’d heard of (rather than some random company that advertised in the yellow pages and now no longer has an ad!), and she scheduled a weekend in late October for them to come, pack her house, and move the contents to Rochester, for which event I was the lucky winner of the coin toss. Actually, I had the vacation time available to spend the week, that’s all.
They needed to use a BIG moving truck.
And when they got here, they completely filled the garage with boxes. And the basement. The attic too. And that’s not even counting furniture.
“Yes, yes,” you ask, “but what about the cat guy?”
Well, you see, now that she’s in her own little house, with a nice, roomy kitchen, she’s been hankering to do some baking.
Unfortunately, given her penchant for procrastination, she hasn’t stumbled upon any bakeware yet. In fact, I’m not even sure she’s come across any “kitchen” boxes.
So I proposed my own thought experiment: Shrödinger’s Cookie Sheets.
The baking sheets are either:
- In the erstwhile pod, and thus, lost forever, OR
- In one of the eleventy-thousand boxes still left to unpack, OR
- They never made it to Rochester and the moving guys are enjoying fresh-baked cookies even as we speak.
And there is no way to know – until every one of the boxes has been opened – and, ideally unpacked.
The real question, though, is how badly does she want to bake her cookes?