The eve of DT Day

The floors have gotten their last coat of polish, the walls and floors have been wiped down, and tomorrow Two Marines and a Truck (actually five of them) are coming to help us move.

The house will be a work in progress. I still need shelves to display my limited edition collectibles, but Miked needs his steam shower. They'll get done!

But tomorrow we are really moving in!

At dinner tonight Miked stood up when Emily said we need a million more movers. I have never heard him wax so eloquently:

No, my fair wife:
If we are mark'd to be sore, we are enow
To do our family loss; and if to succeed,
The fewer movers, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my wife, wish not another helper
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Emily, to the family,
That he which hath no stomach to this move,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And dollars for convoy put into his purse:
We would not move in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
Our moving day is called the feast of Simone:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Simone.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Simone:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Simone's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Miked the GC; Emily; the goofs,
and 2; Matt and the grandparents and Meghan,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Simone shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that moves a box with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That moves with us upon Saint Simone's day.

Then he sat down and started talking about eating stink bugs. But for a moment, I swear he was downright Shakespearean.