If you can determine what is important to someone by looking at what they choose to move (or not move) when they have limited space, Paul and I certainly have, um, interesting things that are important to us. We’ve made one official moving trip – two cars and a car top carrier worth of a move – and I think I should go to the pictures to tell more of this story.

Obviously, I brought Choppy.
Obviously, I brought Choppy.
We brought half of a refrigerator shelf full of cheese. Apparently, we were worried we wouldn't be able to get any in Wisconsin.
We brought half of a refrigerator shelf full of cheese. Apparently, we were worried we wouldn’t be able to get any in Wisconsin.
Paul and I had different ideas as to what small kitchen appliances were necessary. He needed the Keurig (superfluous to me, quite possibly the only attorney in the world who doesn't drink coffee).
Paul and I had different ideas as to what small kitchen appliances were necessary. He needed the Keurig (superfluous to me, quite possibly the only attorney in the world who doesn’t drink coffee).
I needed my much beloved Kitchen-Aid mixer.
I needed my much beloved Kitchen-Aid mixer, even though I have only used it once this week, and would probably have been better served by bringing something else. Like another two pairs of shoes (I only brought 14 pairs of those, showing great restraint).
Obviously, we needed kitchen towels (though I forgot sponges).
Obviously, we needed kitchen towels (though I forgot sponges).
And heaven forbid we not have the correct wine glass.
And heaven forbid we not have the correct wine glass, so we have red, white and champagne ones. Plus a fairly wide selection of other glasses.
Kegerator? Definitely necessary.
Kegerator? Definitely necessary.
Not necessary? A bed. Yes, that's the floor we're sleeping on (though I did remember the pillow I have slept on since I was a kid). Note Choppy's black blanket right next to ours. That's right, we're all sleeping on the floor together. It's like a slumber party, except instead of gossiping all night, we fall asleep at a reasonable hour and then complain about our backs hurting the next day. So not at all like a slumber party.
Not necessary? A bed. Yes, that’s the floor we’re sleeping on (though I did remember the pillow I have slept on since I was a kid). Note Choppy’s black blanket right next to ours. That’s right, we’re all sleeping on the floor together. It’s like a slumber party, except instead of gossiping all night, we fall asleep at a reasonable hour and then complain about our backs hurting the next day. So not at all like a slumber party.