Not virtually, of course. But physically. In a few weeks, I’m moving out of my relatively small NYC apartment up to a giant palace in Syracuse, NY. My wife has to finish up some schooling, and where the wife is, I like to go.
One of the “joys” of moving is trying to figure out how to organize the vast collection of my hobby and then wracking my brain in determining the best way to pack it all for moving! I mean…the minis are easy. I have *just* enough foam to pack all the important minis like this always-near-completion-but-I-just-bought-some-more-minis Crimson Fist army. And my Tau are already packed and ready to go…so no worries there!
But what about all the other stuff? The boxes and terrain and bits and bobs and terrain-junk box and paints and WIPs and the cats and all the other stuff. You can’t just stuff it all into boxes and hope they make it, right? I mean…I spent days organizing my bits and bobs bins!
Do I unpack it all and stick into baggies? Tape all the bins shut with plastic wrap? Wrap it in bubble wrap, stick in a box and look forward to resorting all the bits? (Note: I’m probably going with that last option as I love sorting and resorting bits. My doctor says it’s cause I’m crazy. My wife agrees.)
What about the vast amounts of terrain?That’s not even all of it. I have an assortment of bastions and trees already waiting to get packed as I type this. My method? Wrap in bubble wrap and hope for the best. Oh. And then I’ll write “Fragile: Please don’t break my toys” and a crying face on the side of the box. Hopefully the movers will think I have a kid.
At least the books are easy except for their ridiculous weight…I didn’t even know I had this many White Dwarfs (Dwarves?)! And I’ve taken the time to consolidate all my uncut sprues into a few empty boxes. And put them on the shelf. The “Dark Angels Army” box? That has 5 Landspeeders and at least 18 bikes and 2 more Deathwing additions to my Dark Angels. Unassembled. I have an illness. This hobby. I love it. But man. It is desperately unfriendly to moving! And I forget how I packed all this stuff last time (and then bought a lot more stuff)…so I just know I’m going to commit the same mistakes all over again. I’ll designate a shelf in the new place as the triage ward for shell-shocked minis.
But when it’s all over, I can look at my wife and say…look! All my stuff is packed! I’m awesome. And then she’ll point to a corner of the office and smile politely…
DANG IT!