I do not know what it is about moving house that evokes major weather events. I’ve moved apartments in 100 year storms [one of my movers couldn’t make it back home, and had to collapse back at my new place].
We’ve slowly treked [15mph on a major national highway!] through blinding snow and ice, reluctantly pulling over every few dozen miles to scrape ice from the windshields [then grimly waiting for a space to open up in the epic caterpillar of desperate cars on the main roadway so we could resume our journey].
Honestly — wasn’t the screaming cats in the cars enough? Weren’t the sorting and boxing and ‘oh just take it already’ and ‘d’ya think I can get this out of the ground in one viable piece?’-ing enough icing on the upheaval?
Ah, but there’s nothing like being in a situation where _you_ are just on the edge of being able to cope multiplied by being surrounded by an entire region that is well outside its functional zone as well. The gods chortle: “Oh, hey — HERE’S an Idea: how about thowing 11+ inches of snow and ice on top of people who think the proper temperature for this time of year is 56 with a vaguely nippy breeze coming in from the ocean?”
Oh, sure…. I’ll just hop in my car and get right in the middle of that. Whee….!
Have filial piety, will travel.