Gentlemen, start your packing

It was fate, it had to be. Why else would things have gotten hectic at the rental office just after that notice was turned in so nobody was called about the vacancy. Why else would we have been delayed by the alternator on my car just long enough. The Big Guy put his usual NASCAR spin on it, it is after all apartment number #3 He's already bought the welcome mat for the front door. We have done it. Put our signatures on the line, dipped into the checkbook and embarked on our next new adventure. It's not the townhouse we were thinking about, which suits because we're talking ground floor, no more stairs, with a patio for the BBQ, baby. And as of September 12th, it will be our new home. With more than enough room, all my furniture can come out of storage, once again, we'll have a real dining room, a kitchen you can actually turn around in and a shower that somebody taller than 5 feet can actually use without doing their Hunchback of Notre Dame impersonation. There will of course be challenges. I've not cooking on an electric stove in years. I will have to find some other form of exercise than hauling bags of groceries up the stairs, learn to manuever my way through a livingroom that is wider than 9 feet, does not include the vaccum cleaner, footstool, rocking chair obsticle course, and a foyer approximately the width of a cat box. I'll need to re-learn how to get into bed without having to crawl over the end of said bed to get into my side because of lack of space between the bed and the wall. I'll be dealing with rooms large enough to actually hold the furniture they were intended for, the fact that my livingroom will now actually seat more than two people and most of all, dining every night around a table with my entire family. Yes, it will be tough, but I'll manage :).

But....in spite of my sending that note up Santa's way, leaving the envelope under my pillow for the Toothfairy (guess I should have used a real tooth, huh), setting out carrots for the Easter Bunnie, the Jack'olanterns for the Great Pumpkin, there are apparently no such things as moving elves. I tried calling the sprite and fairy union hall, but it's apparently closed for Summer Solstice. The trail of jelly beans I left from the parking lot to the door of our current place were carried off by the ants, and while the final draw, a case of beer might actually get the attention of various family members, do I really want drunken men packing up my crystal? So many questions....

So I am off to buy a case of tape, gather up my newspapers and settle in for the long haul. It's from here to Hagerstown in 80 days...let the packing begin!