Mom

The move is done.  Her house is empty of all the things she had acquired over a period of 46 years.  I grew up in that house as did my sisters.  It was very hard leaving.  I kinda rushed mom out the door and into the car and left the house for Rob to close up.  I just couldn't slow down to give myself any time to think about it or the "ugly cry" would have gotten the best of me.  It's still hard to think about.  My first child spent her first 2 years in that house.  So many memories...

Boxes, boxes and more boxes

I have been unpacking boxes for 3 1/2 weeks now.  

I was getting a little excited that I could finally see the end of the tunnel of boxes. (There are only 6 left in the garage and 8 upstairs in JC's room)

Then I remembered, we are going to Dayton to move mom here with us.

She has boxes.

A LOT OF BOXES.

It will take a serious amount of cash to make me move again.

 

The Rapture

May 21st is, according to the Mayan Calendar, the day of the "Rapture".

I have a few big concerns here:

One, the bible clearly states that no one, not even the Son knows when this will occur.  Soooo, how did the Mayans know?

Two, it's always "tomorrow" somewhere.  I want to know what time zone this is actually for.

Three, I truly believe that the Mayans just couldn't fatham the world still being around this long and just stopped making the calendar.

I sure hope Saturday is not the end, I am far from ready to meet my maker and would appreciate some more time to prepare.

Moved

We are officially "in".

We have been sleeping in the new house since Saturday.

The weirdest thing happened Sunday.  Rob and I were in the kitchen, he was fixing himself some lunch and I mentioned to him "You know, it's really weird but this place already feels like home."  His eyes got really big and said, "That is weird!  I feel the exact same way!"

I know we both miss our youngest son and the weather in Louisiana like crazy, but somewhere deep inside us, we know that Ohio is home and it's good to be home.

Moving

Let me see, hmmm, if I count correctly, this is the TENTH time I have moved.  It does not get any easier.

I have come to some realizations:

  1.  I have a crapload of stuff
  2.  I LOVE my crapload of stuff
  3.  I HATE moving my crapload of stuff
  4.  I don't want to do this again unless a crapload of money is involved. 
  5.  My body and mind are at polar opposite ends of the age spectrum.
  6.  I need to become friends with a chiropractor, PRONTO 
  7.  I am glad for once, that my deadbeat son doesn't work and is here to help move the crapload of stuff.
  8.  Stairs will make you a stronger person, regardless of how slow you go up or down them, it's the shear amount of how many times you go up and down that counts.
  9.  My back and legs do not like me.
10.  I can't wait till I have all my crap and my mom's crap moved and put away.

Thanks for listening to my whiney rant. :)