I returned from Cofradia late in the evening on the 27th of August. I had three and a half days to pack up our apartment – keeping only what possessions would fit into a 5′x5′x8′ storage unit in the South Bronx. Baby Cat and I would depart for Pristina, Kosovo on Friday afternoon.

Thankfully, I had already packed our china and other such breakable items. I sold the bed and the dresser and our curtains and an assortment of other random items on Tuesday to a crowd of rabidly friendly Facebook shoppers. Our departure felt even more imminent as I was now sleeping on the floor.

I packed the kitchen stuff. I reluctantly committed clothes and kitsch to what seemed like a mountain of bags for the GoodWill. I purged the innumerable  manila envelopes that were in some indiscernible way E’s “filing system.” Yet the possessions to be packed seemed neverending!

At 10am on Thursday, Dave G. responded to my plea for assistance – the storage unit truck was coming in an hour and our worldly possessions had not yet been successfully condensed into the allotted amount of space. Help! Between the two of us, we stuffed and crammed and carefully wrapped a huge amount of “stuff” just in time to greet the storage unit moving man.

After loading everything up (would it truly all fit?) we climbed into the cab of the truck – J on the jump seat and Dave riding shotgun – and headed to the South Bronx. After unloading it all onto massive handtrucks, our moving guy assured me we could carefully maneuver into the freight elevator and through the maze of storage lockers WITHOUT everything tumbling off and shattering. Well, we did indeed make it to the locker and as the guys began to put together the puzzle of how to best maximize every square foot of the locker to its fullest potential. I headed around the corner to pick up a few items I had set down, when “CRASH…” I walked slowly back around the corner as Dave G. said, “ummmm, J…” one of the handcarts had dumped its load. Was it the handcart with our lovely china and other cherished fragile items? Miraculously, No! The only thing that had broken was E’s gold-tone chinatown piggybank.

All in all, it seemed a miracle. We managed to cram everything into the locker with a small amount of space to spare! D and I headed back to Harlem via the 6 train. Since we got off in Spanish Harlem, a festive Mexican meal and a few moments of relaxation seemed in order. We thoroughly enjoyed our huarachas and enchiladas, but all too soon it was back to the grind.

BabyCat and I headed to the vet next for her required vaccinations. The vet updated BabyCat’s passport, she was given a clean bill of health, and then it was back home. When we arrived, I took a walk through what should have been an empty apartment. But, how was it possible that so much stuff remained! Uggh, a long night of packing led to an early morning start. First, there was a stop at Sara K.’s house to hand-off some important BECA paperwork, then to a photocopying store because the printer/copier had been sold earlier in the week. Next stop was the bakery because chocolate croissants can make the most impossible situations seem feasible. And finally, the last stop was the bank for some important last-minute business.

It was 10:15am when I arrived home. I now had to get all the remaining items that I had discovered in the apartment packed up and to the South Bronx before my taxi to the airport arrived at 2:00pm. Kappu came down to say goodbye and goodnaturedly was pressed into packing service for awhile. When it seemed like the packing MUST end because time had grown too short, I recruited my next door neighbor Eddie to help me load it into a taxi for yet another trip to the South Bronx. Next hiccup though: the street was closed for the day for major Con Edison work, so a bunch of amiable neighborhood guys pitched in to help us carry all the stuff to the corner. We hailed a taxi and headed out. When we got to the storage place, I told the taxi driver I would pay him to wait for us (not a big presence of taxis in the area we were in) – “five minutes,” I said. So, Eddie and I got into the freight elevator.

All once again seemed possible when…. “THUMP” the elevator stopped between floors. There we sat for what seemed like days (about 45 minutes) until the elevator guys finally managed to get the doors open and help us climb out and unload the stuff. By the time we finally got my stuff into the storage unit, our taxi driver had long since departed, so it was once again to the 6 train.

 When I got home, I had a few minutes to pack some remaining items into one last suitcase. I wasn’t quite finished (and had not yet showered) when my taxi arrived. I asked for ten minutes, took a 30-second shower, loaded BabyCat into her bag, yelled goodbye to Kappu, dragged my bags out to the curb, and waved goodbye to our Harlem home as the taxi driver headed towards JFK.

Alas, the traffic (it was a Friday afternoon) provided another challenge. Over an hour of ‘bumper-to-bumper stress’ later, we arrived at the airport. My flight was scheduled to depart in one hour and fifteen minutes. The people at the check-in counter were less than cordial. They took one look at ragamuffin ol’ me and my baggage and seemed to make an impromptu decision to do everything possible to keep me on American soil. “Miss, the check-in is closing now; you’re too late.” “But, there’s more than an hour till the flight departs.” “You’ll never make it through security in time.” “Please just let me try!” “Well Miss, you have too many bags.” “But I called and asked if it was possible to pay extra to check one additional bag, and was told that I could” I responded through a smile of gritted teeth.” “No, there’s a baggage embargo in Kosovo and I’m not willing to get fired by breaking with protocol” and so it went as the precious minutes till departure ticked by.

 I’m not sure how, but after chucking my winter coat and a few books, I managed to fit an entire bag inside another and convince the grumpy staff to let BabyCat and I check-in. After an interminably long security line (involving security checks of both me and BabyCat), we made it to the gate just as they were announcing that the flight was closing.

It was off to Kosovo via Vienna with a lovely British lady as our seat partner. BabyCat was a travelling pro – and she even had some beef medallions as a mid-flight snack (generously proffered by our seatmate). I didn’t sleep at all on the flight, so by the time we arrived in Vienna for our five-hour layover, I had only slept about four hours in the last 48. I spread our airline blanket on the floor, let the cat out of the bag (literally not figuratively) and laid down on the floor amidst the hustle and bustle for a little “cat” nap, as Baby stood guard.

One more short flight and there we were. Miraculously, all of our bags arrived. After loading them onto a luggage trolley, we wheeled our way through the doors and into E’s waiting arms! We were in Kosovo at last!