My husband moved crap for 29 straight hours (oh, except for the 30 mins he collapsed on the floor of our old home in the early hours of this morning).
I unpacked last night 'till the wee hours, crashed in our Tempur-Pedic way late When I heard the garage door opening at 5am I forced myself to get out of bed and made coffee and breakfast for my hubs; I hated hearing he'd been working all night. After a cup of coffee, he kept hauling; I worked in my daughter's preschool all morning.
We are all running on adrenaline. My 'Q' photo will arrive later.