Interesting story: when we moved to Fort Worth in 1989 (!) the movers damaged a number of antiques. The company contracted with a father and son duo who specialize in restoring furniture and replacing bits lost in transit. They spent a couple of days working at the house, and it turned out that they were hired to do repairs when Van Cliburn moved to town and his damaged stuff needed work. The stories they told! I spent the whole time with them, not in the way, but asking questions. Meeting them was the best outcome from the entire move. (Weeks and months later they would get calls from Van, asking if they knew where some such item might have been put away. He had them on speed dial.)
The bad-back move that gets me EVERY TIME is to bend forward, reach out, and lift. Sproing! goes the back. Sounds like you have your own personal injury that steps up all of a sudden. I know how the original injury happened, a similar move from picking up a toddler while kneeling and leaning forward. I'll never forget that diaper change as long as I have that back injury to keep coming back if I move wrong. A minor emergency clinic DO doctor was able to pop things back into place, but they are always going to be weak.
Today at lunch I handed over the marvelous black silk chiffon velvet that Mom bought in Japan in about 1946 (she was a WAC who spent 18 months there after WWII). My daughter knows better than most just how precious that fabric is, and will keep all scraps. I told her I'd like a small piece at some point to turn into a something-or-other as a memento of this fabric that spanned three generations. Nothing will go to waste, they'll be bagged for other uses. One of the things that I really wish my mother had lived to see is just how talented her grandchildren are. How the utilitarian sewing that she did (making clothes for us), and that I did (I made most of my clothes in high school and into college, then making clothes for my kids) has gone from that to high art with my daughter.
Also today at lunch I asked the restaurant owner if he eats okra - and a 20 minute conversation on methods to cook it ensued. Later I mentioned eggplant, and we could have gone another 20 minutes. I'll take a bag of fresh okra down later this week since I'll be in the area doing the cat feeding. When it's gone, it's gone, but for now I'll share it with people who love it.
The eBay work is yielding results so I need to keep moving on that. The Goodwill bin in the laundry room has a bit more room before I make a run over there, but all told, I'm moving more stuff out of the house than I'm bringing in.
A sad note to end on, the big Argiope spider out at the end of the porch disappeared two days ago and no sign of her since. The web is undisturbed, so either she went walkabout after a successful season of eating, breeding, and egg sacs, or something ate her. The original Argiope on the porch corner gets really excited when I open the door, making the web bounce up and down trampoline-like. Is she trying to tell me that Timmy fell in the well and I can rescue the other spider if I look around for her? Or is she trying to chase off whatever ate her friend? Mixed metaphors there, Lassie and Charlotte's Web.