The ABC’s of Moving…

Thought I would try a different approach to writing about the past few weeks…

A ~ auto accident while showing our oldest daughter around our new area… nothing serious, a fender bender for them, a dented passenger door for us.

B ~ broken ribs (five of them) for a good friend of ours who was trying to help us get ready to move in…  he fell off a ladder and is now recovering…

C~ Carpeting that still isn’t ordered as we had planned…. this reminds me of the saying, “We make plans and God laughs”

D ~ Discovering new areas where we live, new shops, new restaurants, new roads to travel

E ~ Energy that is eluding hubby and I.  It’s a hot summer, but, the humidity isn’t near what it was in Charleston.

F ~ Finding things packed in odd boxes, and forgetting that I really thought I was organized a few months ago.

G ~ Grocery shopping in new places and finding that familiar things aren’t always where we expect them.

H ~ Heavy boxes are always the ones that are in the way of the boxes you need to get to.  The heavy boxes move from one place to another and you find that you have to shove them out-of-the-way no matter how many times you move them.

I ~ Insurance agents that you are getting to know quickly after the broken ribs and the fender bender… They are very nice and accommodating…

J ~ Junk drawers… I never thought I had so much useless stuff that I really will need at some point in my life….

K ~ Killing bugs that think they belong in this house… they don’t.

L ~ Little Miss visiting us and making us laugh often.  She is a sweetie.

M ~ Memories that have already started to accumulate in our new home.  I have a happy heart thinking of the people who have already seen this place and I dream of the time when others can be here with us.

N ~ Naps desired… but not many taken.

O ~ Opening box upon box upon box and still not finding the legs to my table that goes on my side of the bed.

P ~ Pool cleaning… poor hubby…. we have had a pool of many colors.  He is becoming well-known at the local pool supply store…  But, it’s getting closer to being the right color….

Q ~ A new quilt bought for our guest room, it is lovely and looks perfect in the guest room.

R ~ Reminders of friends and family fill our new place with reminders of sweet presents we have received through the years.

S ~ A dead scorpion in the guest bathroom… couldn’t figure out why my puppy was growling and lunging until we saw the dead insect on the floor.  Found out they are common in the area, but their sting is no worse than a wasp sting…. I really hope it was the only one I see and that I never experience their sting.

T ~ Tinkering… seeing hubby move from one project to another, happy as can be.  This blesses me.

U ~ Unearthing  gems of landscaping under fall leaves that were never picked up.

V ~ Visiting  local places and seeing whether they will become popular haunts to revisit.

W ~ Wishing that this place was more organized and settled.

X ~  eXcited to be in our own home.  Feeling giddy each time I pull into the driveway.

Y ~ Yearning to be settled.  To be able to walk in each room and find it ready.  I know it will come, I am just anxious for it to be finished.

Z ~ Zeal to be here.  To be home.

The past few weeks have been crazy busy.  But, I have loved each moment spent here.  Hot, sweaty, frustrated, perplexed, giddy with excitement and feeling overwhelmed with the amount of chores ahead of us.  This home is truly a gift for us and we want to prove worthy stewards of this place.  A lot has happened, but, that is truly what makes a house a home.

Thanks for stopping by, DAF

At Long Last… Home…

Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness.

Home is where the heart’s tears can dry at their own pace. ~Vernon Baker

We lived in Downeast Maine during the last year of the 70’s and the beginning of the 80’s.  We had been married five years.

There was another young mother who had a daughter the same age as our oldest.  Several times a week we would put the girls in their strollers and we would walk through the little village of Winter Harbor and climb the hill to walk around Grindstone Neck.  An area that is filled with mansions with large beautiful windows and curving driveways and plush lawns.

We would push our strollers and gaze at these homes.  We would mention what we had heard in passing.  Who lived there, who rented there.  There was one home that had a breakfast nook that overlooked the road.  There were lacy curtains and you could see the breakfast table sitting in the window.  We would both say that one day, we would have a home with a bump out like that.  We would sit in our beautiful bathrobe and eat a soft-boiled egg in an egg cup.  We thought this would be heaven since neither of us had the time to eat a warm piece of toast with our toddlers.

After my morning walks, I would often meet with a couple of other women from the housing area.  One being Little Man’s Nana.  We would sit over tea cups and talk about the day when we would each have our own home.  A home that was not painted Navy gray.  We would sit and dream of sidewalks for our kids to roller skate on or ride their bikes on.  We would dream of being able to paint each room whatever color we felt like.  We talked about having our own yards and plants.

Through the years I have dreamed of a perfect home.  When I was younger, I always wanted a wishing well in the front yard.  I had seen one in one of the housing units on base.  I thought it was wonderful.   I always wanted that bumped out window.  I liked Palladium windows also.  Gazebos were also something I thought would be great.  They look like a fun place to visit.  Flowers, trees, yards, benches, and more trees.  Ah… that would be ideal.

Hubby and I have long thought about the time when we would buy our house to grow old in.  We have talked so much about what we would love to have.  We usually laughed and sighed and admitted that it was up to the Lord as to what He wanted us to have and where He would like us to be.

This past January we traveled up to the upstate region of South Carolina.  We began to look at places we had seen online.  We met with a realtor and he showed us several places.  None of them worked.  None of them sparked in us what we knew would be “the” place.

In February, our realtor called and said he had just been asked to list a property.  He said he thought he had found ‘our’ place, and would we come up to look at it.  So, we packed the dog and the car and headed up once more.

We programmed the address into our gps and drove to the place just to get a sneak peek.  We drove past nice homes, and old broken down barns.  We passed silos covered with ivy and more homes.  We turned onto the street and turned up the driveway.  We parked the car and looked at each other.  We smiled.

The next day the realtor took us inside this place.  We spent two and half hours poking around this place and property.  We smiled more.  We began to think we had found our place.

We returned home, put in an offer and after a brief negotiation, we started the paperwork.  This past Friday we signed the papers and were handed the key to our new home.

As I sat at the lawyer’s table looking at the key, I commented that this little piece of metal represented so much to us.  We spent the weekend there.  We had two camping chairs, the dog’s bed, and an air mattress.  We had the best time!  We worked hard and are tired, but, it is home.  It is filled with a peace that confounds us.

And yes, having taken an inventory of my memories that I have just shared, this house has them all.  A wishing well is standing at the corner of the driveway, complete with a handle that moves.  It houses a hose for watering that part of the yard.  A gazebo graces the front yard, it needs a coat of paint, but, it is going to be a wonderful stage for Little Man and Little Miss to perform on, and it will be a place to sit and sip and talk.   The big palladium window graces the front of the house and it is a modified Cape Cod style that I have always loved.  There is a bump out breakfast area in our kitchen.  I can sit there and watch the birds and the bees pollinate the flowers surrounding the home.  A screen porch overlooks the pool and beyond that is a yard that is surrounded by a couple of acres of trees and a stream.

We are blessed beyond measure.  I am humbled that through my life the little things that I silently mentioned to the Lord He gave to me.  Things that I thought were so far out of the realm of the possible for me have been given to me.  I walked through the house yesterday before we left.  I thanked the Lord for the gift of the house and I prayed for each room.  My prayer now is that this home will be a place of rest, not only for us, but for anyone who needs to  regroup and be restored.

We will be in our rental for another couple of weeks while we paint and do some other things in our new home, and finish getting some things done here in the rental, but, I know hubby and I left our heart in our new home already.

Thanks for stopping by today…  DAF

Kitchen Memories…

Two years ago yesterday we moved to our current home.  We did not like it here.  It was not the house we wanted to be in, yet, we had to move since the owners of our previous home wanted to live there.  We understood why they wanted to be there, it is a great home.

So, anyhow, fast forward two years and I am again neck-deep in boxes.  I really don’t mind and I haven’t wanted to dwell too much on here with moving, although when you are in the middle of it, it is what you think about and ultimately write about.

Yesterday, I jumped into the kitchen.  Determined to whittle down what was in the cupboards to the bare minimal.  We are hoping to close soon and I want to be able to throw what is remaining into a box and have it done with.

I am also sorting as I go.  Pitching things that are way beyond useful and pulling out things that still have life to them to donate.  I confess, I did hold on to a couple of small appliances that truly are past their prime, but still work well, although they do not look good.

But, for the most part, I looked at things critically to decide what went and what stayed.  The thing that spoke the most to me was how often some of these things have been packed.  I wrapped some things that were wedding gifts 40+ years ago.  A cake plate.  Given to us by our best man.  I use it daily, well, it sits on my counter top.  I love it.  The lid that I now put on top of it belonged to another cake plate hubby got me a few years back.  The plate itself didn’t last long, but the cover was heavy enough and it went with the original cake plate.  I wrapped them both and prayed they wouldn’t be broken in this, their last move.

I did this often yesterday.  Picked up a piece and wrapped it, and remembered how long I have had it, what the story behind it was and thought of the moves we have made over the years.

For some of these things, it is the 12th move.  That’s not a large number considering we were military.  But, having stayed in one place for 28 years, it is still a lot of moves.   Memories crowded my mind and kept me company yesterday.  It was an interesting day.   I remember our first ‘official’ move.  The one we did not do ourselves.  The packers came in, they packed things up quickly and then looked around our little apartment.  They wanted to take the furniture, which would have helped us, but, it was a furnished apartment.  We had enough to fill a half of a crate.  Up to that point, we  thought we were overloaded with ‘stuff’.

This move will take a very large truck.  We have a houseful of furniture and a storage shed.  We will most likely take things we shouldn’t.  Things that would be better tossed or donated.  But, we have come to a point where we look at things and see a place and a point to keeping them.  I am hoping it is not weariness guiding us, but, I have a feeling it is.

So, two years after being in this home, I have started to say good-bye to it.  We didn’t start as friends, but, it now echoes memories and laughter and some tears.  It amazes me how packing up a few dishes reveals the heart changes that happen.

Thanks for stopping by, DAF

Dinner with Friends…

This evening I was invited to have dinner with a couple of friends.  They wanted to have one more meal together while we were all still in the same town.  I was treated to a lovely meal downtown and I feel special because of their caring.

We are getting closer to moving.  I have packed so many boxes, I think I should be finished.  I’m not and when I look around all I see is more ‘stuff’ that needs to be sorted through.  But, that is not what I wanted to write about tonight.

When we moved here five years ago, I never truly thought about what it would be like to live in a city where I knew no one.  I had lived in San Diego for so long, that I knew people and had friends.  I took that feeling of belonging to someone’s circle of friends for granted.  I still miss those friends, and time and distance has not erased the wish to meet for coffee or walk around lakes.  They are forever etched into my heart.

This evening I had dinner with two women.  One I know and can talk with, but, we have never spent time one on one.  Until this evening when we carpooled to the restaurant.  It was the first time I had actually spent more than five minutes alone with her.  The conversation was easy and fun and I will always remember the drive into town.

The other women was my first friend in Charleston.  When you move, you meet neighbors and they are polite and nice.  They sort of have to be that way, since, after all, you are neighbors.  Then I met people at church, and again, people are nice because, well, they sort of have to be.  I felt that these people were a given.  But, this woman, was my first friend.  She had a conversation with me when there was no real obligation for her to do so.  Of course, she did own a shop and I was in shopping, but, the conversation went beyond that.  I visited her store often and each time the conversations grew in length and fun.  Soon, I was working with her and we would talk the day through, if we could.  I had a friend.

I once wrote a blog post about friendship, I referenced the Girl Scout song, make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold.  I mentioned this friend in the link and said that I thought that she would one day move from the silver group into the gold.

This  evening, I realized that this woman has become a golden friend.  We have shared much the past few years.  We have laughed and cried and shopped and laughed some more.  We are both retired military wives and we know what it is like to start over again and again.  We know that distance does not make a friendship disappear.

Our friendship will not disappear, this we know.  But, once more, this evening I felt the pang I have felt so many times in my life.  I have sat at a table laughing and talking only to have the time run out and the last words spoken: good luck; this is a new adventure; and, we will miss you.    All wonderful words, but they hurt the heart when you think of so many friends you have said this to.  I carry in my heart faces of women who have blessed me, laughed with me, propped me up when I could not stand, and made me laugh until I snorted soda, or tea, or coffee from my nose.

So, in the next month I will be in a familiar situation again.  I will meet new neighbors.  We will find another church to attend.  And hopefully, I will find someone who will take that chance to strike up a conversation that will never truly end.

And so dear friend, thank you for the dinner and the memories of a wonderful time spent here in the Lowcountry.

Thanks for stopping by….  DAF


It is always interesting when you begin to go through closets and drawers.  I am beginning the chore of packing for our move.  It is something I really don’t mind doing, especially when I am not rushed in doing it.  We have several weeks and I have made a good start. I am a bit stiff, but, I am using muscles that have been dormant for a couple of years. Today was an interesting day.  I unearthed unexpected things.  I was surprised by what I found, and laughed at some of the discoveries. I found brochures from various venues and caterers for my daughter’s wedding that never was.  I have moved since  her wedding was called off, and I was amazed I still had the information that I will never use.  I stacked them and then pitched them.  Thinking about it, I was glad my daughter is where she is in her life now, and relieved that this wedding did not happen.  A good reminder. I found a folder of my older writing samples.  I had not read my writing in a while.  I was pretty impressed with what I had done so long ago.  I have toyed with posting some of it here.  I once more was able to see a copy of the short story that was published.  It was a reminder of times when I worked harder at writing than I do now.  A kick to maybe be that diligent once more. After Christmas this year, hubby and I searched the house and garage for a box to put an artificial tree in.  The tree goes in our guest room each year and after Christmas, the box was nowhere.  We searched for days, each of us wondering why the other threw the box away.  Two days ago, I looked at the tree hanging out without a box in a closet.  I grabbed a large box and put it in.  I put in other Christmas decorations that were stragglers.  I resigned myself to never finding the box.  Today, I groaned loudly when I saw the box.  It must have concerned hubby because he immediately asked what was wrong.  I walked to where he was with the box.  He started laughing.  So, the box that should have the tree in it, now has Christmas linen in it.  I figured I would keep the season at least correct.  Plus, I know when I open it next November I will laugh that I did this. I now have two room almost completely done.  I am moving ahead each day.  Yes, I will be glad to have it over.  But, I confess, I am finding it interesting what I have where…  I sometimes make no sense to myself. Thanks for stopping by, DAF

On Moving… Maybe…

Almost 32 years ago we moved into our first home that was our own.  It was a terrifying and wonderful experience.

I bought the house.  I say I, well, because, I was the only person who was in town to do the work.  We bought our first home with the help of my in-laws.  They needed a tax deduction at the time and we needed the financial help.  It was a win-win situation for all of us.

They gave me a power of attorney and I had the legal right to sign their names and make the decisions.  I also had a power of attorney from hubby, who left a couple of months before we moved into our home.

We opened escrow in late June/early July time frame.  We moved all of our worldly possessions into the garage of the home we were buying.  We drove to New Mexico and visited my sister and brother-in-law.  We were there for about a week and came home and stayed with some friends.

Now, the one detail I have left out is that I was seven months pregnant with our youngest daughter and our oldest was four and half years old.

Hubby left on July 15th for a six month deployment that turned into an 8 and half month deployment.  When he left, he thought we would be moving into our home at the end of July.

The escrow was extended several times and we did not move in until September 2, 1983, nine days before our daughter was born.

That time was very stressful for me.  I had to sign everyone’s name on several documents all followed by this phrase, by power of attorney, and then sign my name.  Everything was sent snail mail.  No over night mailings, no faxes, nothing like that.

I remember that time so clearly.  It stands out in my mind.  The heat of the summer, which was an incredibly hot summer with triple digits for the months of July, August and September.   A car that was temperamental to say the least.  It broke down weekly and repairs were always the same as the national debt.  A four-year old who loved her daddy so much and reminded me daily of how miserable she was without him.  A husband serving his country and being in the places that the news men were opening their shows with.   It was a stressful time.

In the years since, I have thought that those months were a fond memory.  A time that now serves as a good story.  I haven’t thought much about any of this until a week ago when we put in an offer for a new home.

Then, it all came flooding back to me.  Hubby is doing the bulk of this escrow.  I appreciate that.  But, I marvel at the changes that have come in this area.  Documents are now emailed.  Electronic signatures happen.  You hit a button, and you are signed.  When hard copies with real ink signatures are needed, then you overnight them.

There is a part of me that is resentful.  But, it is only a small part.  I am too excited, too hopeful that this may be my forever home.  There are still inspections to be done, and those inspections will let us know if this will happen or not.  So, I hold my breath, and I pray that in a few months I will be done with the unpacking.

Thanks for stopping by, DAF

A Blustery Day…

I love winter.  I really do.  I love the cold, the wind and whatever is thrown at us in precipitation.  Snow, rain, ice, it’s all wonderful.

Today is a blustery day.  Yes, I know, I live in the south.  It can’t be that blustery.  But, yes, it is a blustery day today.

I just came in from walking our dog.  The moon is bright in the clear sky.  The flags on the porches are all blowing straight out, like they have been starched stiff.  The wind is whipping around the cul-de-sac and down the hill (well, as much of a hill that can be found here in the Lowcountry).

As I walked up the hill, I thought how blustery it is.  I chuckled because I know there were times in my life that I would consider this weather a hot spell.  So, as I walked our little Shugo, I thought of the different places I have lived and the blustery days I have experienced.

Being born and raised in Northwestern Pennsylvania, I know what cold is.  I know what snow is.  I have fallen on ice walking to and from school, uphill, downhill, two miles along.

From there I went to Norfolk, VA.  We lived in a small cheap beach apartment the winter before we were transferred to Japan.  We would turn on the wall heating unit before heading to bed and wake up in the morning to see a mound of sand gathered on the floor around the heating unit, which was stone cold….  Youth and young love made me think this was wonderful!

In Japan we lived on a converted WWII Japanese airstrip.  We lived in occupation era Navy houses.  The view was incredible, Mt. Fuji and Sagami Wan (bay), but our house was one all by itself at the end of the runway and we had nothing in front of our house except open field.  The wind would whip up and buffet that little house and it would almost knock me over every time we left the house in the winter.  Of course, now it most likely wouldn’t move me at all, since I was young and skinny back then.

From Japan, we went to Maine.  Need I say more about knowing what cold is like?  When the temperature rose to  O degrees we thought it was spring!  I loved the winter in Maine and the other two seasons, July and August.  It is heaven on earth and I would move back there in a minute.  Snow, ice, wind chill and all.  It is truly God’s country.

From Maine we thawed out in San Diego.  I know you are thinking, no bluster there.  You are right for the most part, but, living there as long as I did, I saw some frost, and even a hint of snow.   And, we went for a 40 minute ride to the mountains to experience our wind and cold.  The last Valentine’s Day in California, hubby and I actually took a ride in the mountains and got snowed in up there.  It was cold and windy and very snowy outside the beautifully warm bed and breakfast we landed in.

So, I have decided blustery days happen everywhere.  Those days that chill you to the bone.  Where you come inside and think of warm drinks and warm jammies.  Tonight is like that and I am very content and happy that my hands got cold as did my cheeks while I walked our dog.   Who knows, I may decide he needs to go back out again, just so I can enjoy this winter feeling.


Searching for Happily Ever After…

Hubby and I are on a quest of sorts…  We are in the process of finding our forever after home.  Being a military couple, we have had our share of moving.  Granted, we were at one place for almost 28 years, but, we did have one move during that time. This is hopefully the last time we utter that four letter word.  It is a painful word and one we dread.  MOVE, is a mighty word.  It makes me tired just looking at it.  But, move, we will be doing this year.  Where?  That is our question also. This week, in celebration of our 40th wedding anniversary, we have set out to start our quest for this home. Today, we drove around the upstate part of South Carolina.  As we drove around I thought of what I was seeing out the window.  (Now, mind you, I gave in and actually had two glasses of a forbidden substance for me… I caved and had sweet tea)  Some of my readers, well, one in particular (you know who you are!  wink, wink…) know the effects of sweet tea, me and a closed in-car.  I begin to bounce off the seat, and I start to talk, fast.  I start to laugh at anything, and I make off-hand remarks.  Hubby threatened to put me in the back with the dog and have him be his navigator, but he didn’t follow through on his threats. What we did see was beautiful countryside.  Rolling hills, fields, small towns, and many interesting homes.  We saw some lovely large churches, and some cute little churches that looked welcoming.  There were cemetaries everywhere.  We commented that either there were many cemetaries in the area, or we kept going around a very large area of tombstones and we were seeing it from different angles. Several places were burned.  They looked like chimney fires.  One that struck me was a burnt pile of debris.  There was a man sitting by the ruins.  He was looking out over the site.  My heart was touched as I thought (and obviously am still thinking) about him. The day was filled for me in silent prayer.  Prayer for that man.  Prayer for the area.  Most of all, prayer that we will, Lord willing find the place He wants us to land.  A place to put down roots that need a place to grow.  A place that is not a temporary fix, but a place to grow old in.  A place to see not only the landscape mature, but see us, as a couple, a family mature and age. Thanks for stopping by, I appreciate your visit.   DAF

Thirty years ago….

When we think of what happened a week ago we sometimes think it was a long time ago.  Lately, my husband and I tease one another that we are lucky when we remember each other’s names let alone what happened yesterday.  It’s not that we are that old, it’s just that we sometimes just put the earlier days into the pile of days that had nothing remarkable happen to us.

Today, thinking it was the 10th of September, I woke up thinking what I did thirty years ago.  Unusual?  Well, yes, but this week marks a milestone.  Thirty years ago on the 11th, my baby came into this world and changed the lives of everyone she has met since.

Thirty years ago this past week, I moved into our first home.  It wasn’t the first place we lived, but it was the first home we were buying.  I was nine months pregnant and the weather for San Diego was incredibly hot.  Dear hubby was doing his job in providing and securing our freedom, so he was not able to be with me during this season of our life.  But, that’s another story to tell.

We didn’t have much furniture or worldly goods at that time, but there was enough to keep me occupied.  I was helped by a group of friends that are still good friends.  Daily, they would drop by to help me out and move boxes to rooms so that I didn’t have to lug them from room to room.

Our oldest daughter was 4 at this time.  She was adorable, long strawberry blonde hair that hung in long Shirley Temple ringlets.  She was my helper and my cheerleader.  She knew she would have a little sister (although at that time we hadn’t a clue).  She knew because she prayed for one and her young faith was enough to assure her that what she asked for, she got.   She was excited for the new house, for seeing toys packed up weeks before and for the impending arrival of the baby.

I, was stressed.  Buying a home should have been a wonderful time.  Instead, the process that should have been short, was extended and I ended up finishing it all while hubby was floating on the waters of the world.   That was enough for a 20 something to do.  Add to it, having to let my oldest go to some new friend’s home while being in the hospital overwhelmed me with concern.  My helping group of friends all worked and could not watch my oldest during the day, so instead some very nice people offered to watch our girl while I was busy with our youngest.  It turned out to be a great experience, but today, thirty years ago, it caused me anxiety.

So, with no family around, friends who cared and love me, we had an adventure.  We moved into our home.  It was not my dream home, but it was larger than any place we had lived and it would be home for the next 27 years.

Thirty years ago today was a Friday.   I got the bedrooms downstairs finished.  I finished the kitchen.  I propped up swollen feet.  I revelled in the joy and excitement of our daughter.  Her excitement can be contagious, still.

Thirty years ago tomorrow we did the family room, my friends and I.  We had a cookout with burgers and hot dogs and beans and macaroni salad.

Then, thirty years ago on the 11th, which was a Sunday, our little girl arrived.  She had wonderful facial expressions that I have seen her precious little boy mirror. She would be the child to teach me laughter.  She would be the child to teach me joy, inexpressible joy.  She has taught me several other things in her life, but these two are paramount.

When she was eighteen, her birthday was overshadowed by the events of 9-11.  From then, her birthday would always be something more, something mentioned on the news.  A national day of horror.  We have tried since 2002 to make her birthday a time of celebration with a time of solemn remembrance.   It is sometimes difficult to talk about the celebrations when the day marks other events.

But, she is our joy, my special gift from our Father in heaven.  I have told her this often.  I believe in telling our children a statement that is a truth.  A statement that will echo in their minds when everything is screaming at them otherwise.  She knows that she is my special gift from Jesus.

So, this day, two days before her thirtieth birthday, I begin to honor her.  She has blessed this world in many ways.  She continues to do so.  She is my gift, and my joy.

I just can’t believe I am old enough that my baby is 30 years old… when did that happen???

Otherwise, I am fine.

(as a sidenote, my oldest daughter has taught me love, unconditional and permanent.  On one of her birthdays the Challenger blew up. So, there is also a news story or memory on her day of celebration also.  Her statement? You are precious in the sight of Jesus.)

Thanks for stopping by, DAF

Up from the debris of boxes…..

Uhhh… air… not the stuffy box smell.  My head is no longer in the middle of unpacking boxes.  There are remnants of packing paper and boxes still visible but for the most part we look normal in our new house.

It was an experience to say the least.  My dear hubby and I have moved overseas, and back again.  We have moved across this great country of ours a couple of times.  We have experience in moving.  We know the motions.  We know the preparation.  We know the tired feeling.  It is in our long-term memory areas.

We have acquired a few little scratches along the way, both the furniture and ourselves.  The major damage in all those moves was a china tea saucer broken.  In half, a perfect break.  That was at least 30 years ago.  I saved the pieces so that I could glue it together.  A couple of weeks ago while packing a cupboard in our kitchen I came across the two pieces, still not glued.  Just tired enough, I looked at the pieces and pitched them into the trash.  I know I would never glue them.  So, when I am departed, whoever gets my china will just be one saucer short.  They will wonder what happened to it, and you will all know.

I share the memories with you about these earlier moves.  This move was, well, the only way to describe it is ‘the move from hell’.  It was rainy to start with.  Humidity was there, but not overwhelming.  Our poor puppy who is advanced in his little life did not tolerate the move well.  As things started to leave our home in the hands of strangers, he looked at me as if to say, ‘are you aware they are taking things out of our house?’.   By the end of the first day, he was shaking so badly, our neighbors came and took him to their home so he could relax.  He ended staying with them for the night and the next day.   It helped him and made me feel more relaxed about his well-being.

The first night ended at midnight.  Yes, you read that right.  It was midnight before things were unloaded into our storage facility.  Dear hubby and I got into our car and began driving in search of a local hotel.  We found one.  They were reluctant at first to rent us a room since we looked like we had just crawled out of the sewer.  But, when hubby produced the numbers for the honors club we are members of, they addressed us by name and produced a wonderful room and a great shower.  We enjoyed that facility for the next five hours of sleep and had a great breakfast to boot!

The next day ended at 6 p.m. with all the boxes dumped into the house, the bed was set up and made, and we were officially ‘moved’.   After dinner and retrieving our beloved puppy, we spent our first night in our new place.

We also took further notice of our belongings.  Hubby had taken pictures all through the day of scratches, gouges and rips.  Nothing was spared, except what I had packed.  I am so glad I packed the house, otherwise nothing would have survived.  For a twenty-minute drive from our last place, we have damage to everything.  Hubby’s desk was smashed into about seven pieces.  Yes, this is horrible, but I do confess, it was pretty ugly for a desk, so I am no too upset…  😉  But, the fact remains, now we are starting to deal with this all.  There are countless amounts of paperwork to fill out.  That is hubby’s job.  Mine is to make this place feel like home.

The other noticeable thing about this move is how tired we are.  My brain has hurt, it is so tired from lugging and unpacking boxes.  But, however, it is over.  We are home.

So, I will now go about getting back into a routine.  Cleaning.  Cooking. Blogging.  It will be nice to resume the regularly scheduled programming.

Thanks for stopping by.  I appreciate your visits.  DAF