We've arrived

The house is marvelous. It's in the upper end of our price range, but well worth it. The owners are obviously conscientious with smart improvements all over the place. The wood floors on the main level appear to be that self install stuff from Costco, most of the main rooms have a personal touch to the paint (in most cases most definitely not what I would have chosen, but it shows a deep care in the property nonetheless since specific texturing techniques were applied), among a number of other little tweaks here and there. A shed outside contains many cans of touch up paint and property maintenance supplies. Half barrels and carefully trimmed rose bushes outside, and the lingering scent of candles in one kitchen cupboard give mute evidence that aesthetics mattered here.

So we've littered the place with boxes, both filled with our belongings and recently emptied of pizza. We toiled all yesterday afternoon and today to begin fitting our home into this house, wondering over and over again why we have so much stuff. My shoulder began to ache again, as is its wont when I am experiencing great stress. It sometimes renders my arm numb if left to its own devices. I'm awake now having attempted to sleep with that ache unchallenged, waiting with blogging and Cityville (a game in facebook) for ibuprofen to make it possible to sleep. Princess came to see me earlier this evening and I mentioned my shoulder pain to her. Her face looked tragic and she exclaimed "not you, too!"

Moving losses so far: one electric griddle which snapped under the weight of a toaster oven and various other kitchen-type things. One candy thermometer, un-used.  :(  Some damage to my beloved stand mixer. And one box that has simply vanished from the Earth. More losses to come, surely, as these packers have been our worst by far. Nice guys, with great customer service as far as smiles and howdy-do's go, but wretched organization which labeled two rooms' worth of items as "girls' room", "den" became the room where all boxes and furniture went to live when Man's back was turned or someone hadn't bothered to check one of the room label boxes printed right on the side of the flippin' box (my poor craft room,which I'm overwhelmingly lucky to have, is bursting at the seams), and several "last minute boxes" have an assortment of items each worthy of a hoarders favorite junk drawer based on their eclectic nature alone since the first wave of packers couldn't be bothered to finish the job despite knocking off for the day quite early and leaving all of the rest of the packing to the loaders, who couldn't be bothered to bring any "just in case" boxes.

Ok, Annie, take a breath.

I've got some ideas on how to make my kitchen fit into this kitchen, utilizing some free standing plastic drawers and one of the shelves that won't fit into the den, but this place is seriously lacking in drawers. Three small and two medium mean that most of my utensils are homeless and laid bare on the counter, waiting for my decree to see them safely nestled in a resting place where Man, the official dish put-awayer, will never remember to put them until shortly before we move again. I intend to label my free standing organizing solutions to within an inch of their lives.

Mostly I miss having a pantry option right off of my kitchen. We had converted a linen closet into a pantry in the last house, and now we'll have to make do with one corner pocket lazy Susan (which seems to be a ubiquitous feature in these Colorado homes. I think there was one in every home through which we walked) and one cabinet. Other than that, we have Raul in the craft room (which is where my shiny boyfriend belongs, thankyouveddymuch), shelves we've squeezed into the laundry room, and the half of a garage where we'd eventually like to put a second car. It looks like bed risers are our food storage option du jour, which we won't really be gathering in earnest until we actually buy a house anyways, so it's not a huge loss.

Snow has been scheduled for my beautiful city for the next two days.

And now my motrin seems to be working. I'm going to top it off with some tylenol and see what sort of sleep I can get tonight. Tag wants to go up and down the street meeting the neighbors tomorrow and it wouldn't do to look like an ill hag for that first impression.

House hunting

Where to begin.

The housing inspection went pretty well, except they charged us $500 for one room's worth of carpet replacement. Any guesses on which room? The carpeted dining area, the only area in the house designed as an eating space. Idiots.

The drive out to the Midwest was a lot more sane this time around, with a hotel to break up the long drive from MD to IL. We had a great visit with one of Man's sisters and her son.

My most difficult goodbye yet came in Kansas. It took a lot of effort to not bawl over, once again, driving away from a family I love so much.

I'm so grateful that the trip was boring. The most eventful event was finding a shocked and lost mother in the restroom of a restaurant, faced with her two month old baby's first ever diaper blowout. I offered help as she numbly stared at what her son had wrought in his shorts, showing her how to roll the back of his clothes to get them off without getting his whole body dirty. Hehe. Poor lady has no idea that it only gets worse in the diaper department until that glorious day when he becomes potty trained.

Anyway, our first day of house hunting was rather promising. We had a bunch of leads and liked two homes for sure. We'll head out again tomorrow morning to do more house tours before putting in applications.

We stopped by Ft Carson to get a bead on what resources are available here for wounded warriors and the spread is extensive. Man even got a tip for a bunch of job openings that somehow involve computers, and it's a GS11 position. We're hoping and praying that something works out soon.

As it is, I'm shocked that I'm not panicking. No job, no home, and greatly reduced paychecks after July. Ack! Maybe I'm in shock. Maybe the last 10 years have traumatized me so much that my capacity to feel in these situations has been diminished. Whatevs.

More house hunting tomorrow and then we bend all efforts to the job search. Pray for us.

Saying goodbye is hard to do

Gosh, I love my friends. They come in all shapes and sizes, in all colors and creeds. They all share a few traits: humor, intelligence, and kindness. I've recently enjoyed the company of one friend who moved all the way across the continent to come see me again (the Crusty Cupcake family). I've enjoyed the company of friends who followed us all the way from California, with one little detour along the way (Rochelle, Brian, and their sweet children). Friends here have been kind and wonderful and helped us limp through a tumultuous year.

And now we move on to yet another city and new friends, continuing to enjoy the friends we now leave behind in a geographical sense.

The packers come on Monday and I still have a bunch of crap to get done. We'll weigh the van after the trip. Some good news is that Man's promotion right before his retirement means that we have a 9,000 pound weight allowance, inside of which we'll rattle.

So now we just have to pack the van and frickin' figure out where we'll live. My uncle was kind enough to scope out a neighborhood we've had out e-eyes on for a while, with a very promising report. Our real eyes checked out a few other neighborhoods over Christmas break but we didn't reach any conclusions.

So, without internet for a few weeks, I bid you a hearty "see you soon, friends." We'll be unplugged beginning Monday morning, which includes our landline. All communication will have to go through our cell phones until we get plugged in again, whereupon our current numbers will still be valid thanks to Google Voice.

Any prayers you'd like to send our way with fond wishes for finding a house soon would be most appreciated.

Chocolate and almonds

It's getting hot and heavy over at my product review blog (wherein I whine about or praise some interesting finds)


Almonds. And chocolate. Oooooooooo......

Of Oranges

Frieda is peeling an orange.

F: Mom, what's this?

Me: Pith.

F: Pith.

And that's when I remembered that she has a lisp.