Hi Ho Hi Ho, to Hagerstown we go...

Well, tomorrow morning, bright and early, after a fast and wholesome breakfast at Wafflehouse (I am SUCH a redneck sometimes), we are heading up route 81. Armed with wage statements and SSI payment letters, wearing our lucky underwear, a bag of four leaf clovers in the back (Honest officer, that really IS a sack of four leaf clovers, I swear), fingers, toes and eyes crossed that we can qualify for the townhouse we want. I am dreaming of actually being able to fit all our furniture into one place, to have a real dining room, not a 'nook' that barely measures 5 x 7 that only a little patio table fits in. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to plug up that umbrella hole?) To be able to actually turn around in the kitchen or even fit in there with Py and Sahara walking behind me. I know that somewhere in this world, other people can actually open their dishwasher and oven door at the same time and I want to be counted in their numbers! I can remember from memories of a house long past that it is possible to open your fridge and not scrape the counter across from it, but it was so long ago, that the memory has faded to where I am not sure if it's real anymore. A shower that actually fits a grown person, a tub that you can actually stretch out in and not feel as if you are bathing in a basin. Windows that open and stay on track, a patio where you can sit outside at night and not be afraid of what will filter down on you from the tenant du jour upstairs. And if this magical place can also have a garage where the Big Guy can tinker on his truck and have his tools, it would truly be heaven.

I know what I will be dreaming about tonight. Mark Harmon, No (well ok, maybe) Johnny Depp? No. I will be dreaming of Ethan Allen. Gorgeous Ethan Allen maple furniture made back when wood was wood and it took four men to lift the table. Furniture that has been languishing in pieces under the bed, covered in dismal blankets in storage, separated for years, whimpering in the dark, wanting desperately to be together again, like it was for nearly 30 years in my mother's dining room.

Keep your fingers crossed for us. We're about to embark into a brave new world!