OK, I'm starting to dream about felt pens, packing tape, and cardboard boxes. We're getting to that point where the chaos seems to be increasing and the panic is beginning to set it, but the reality is that we are almost on the downhill slope. You know, that point of having a cold where you start to sound really awful but you're actually feeling lots better. The garage is just about whipped into shape. A few more hours and the only things left in there will be things that the movers are going to load into the truck. Same goes for the lab/shed: Gordon has been kicking butt in there (he deserves a Combat Engineer medal, if there is such a thing, for that duty).
Only four more days of packing left. Can we do it? Yoda sez, "There is no 'try', there is only 'do'." OK, boss...
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