Skipping Town

We're just about to pull the plug on living in Texas for awhile. Six or more months they tell us. This morning we close on our home, signing it over to the buyers, then Saturday morning we'll load Miss Lily in the minivan and head out.

So just a few things before I also pull the plug on this computer:

We got to meet with our buyers. They've never owned a pool, and wanted to know a bit more about the house, so they came over last Sunday and we went through four pages of riveting stuff, like water heater alarms, insulated pipes over the garage, power flush toilets, etc. Our buyers are somewhere in their early 40's I'd say. They have two boys, 9 and 13, and no dog presently, but one is in the near future.

When given the choice of upstairs bedrooms, nine year old Travis chose my craft room because of all the shelves Cub Sweetheart installed in the closet. He thought they would be great for holding all his toys and legos and stuff. I love knowing that. We have one Little who is nine years old, so I can easily picture Travis in that room. It's a nice picturing.

The thirteen year old is a bit sad to leave his old house. He actually has friends in this neighborhood and won't be changing schools (they live a mile away as the crow flies), but his parents brought him home from the hospital to where he lives now. So he's a bit sentimental about all the memories they're leaving behind. Hopefully the years he spends here, the rest of his childhood, will be filled with happy memories too.

He also asked his parents if anyone had ever died in this house, and CS and I laughed when they told us his concern. You actually have to disclose this on the seller's disclosure, but we told them 'no'. We have to assume they heard there was an older couple living in the house now, and aged us at somewhere near Methuselah. We told them, 'only Lucky - the previous owners' dog, who got run over in the driveway by the owner, because he wasn't actually so lucky'.

The woman told me that when they walked in and she saw the kitchen, her first thought was 'oh my goodness, we can bake SO many Christmas cookies with those counters!'. Love, love, love. I used to bake cookies like crazy, but not so much anymore. This house needs some cookie baking going on.

They plan to tear out all the main floor carpet and put in hardwood, so they won't actually be moving in for a week or so. It'll be beautiful. They also plan to put in an outdoor TV, and a basketball goal over the driveway, and entertain like crazy. We've never been big entertainers, but especially so at this house - just family. This house could use some entertaining.

Today I pack the kitchen, mark the box that holds the coffee pot, two cups for that first morning after we finally move into our new home, a roll of paper towels and toilet paper. This evening we're taking dinner to our son and his little family who moved a few days ago and are still settling into their new place. We'll hug them all goodbye and I already am dreading it. It doesn't matter that we'll be back in late October. For me, reason has little to do with saying goodbye to people you love. Tomorrow we load the van for our 2000 mile trek to northern Idaho, with four stops along the way. Friday will be a blur, but when the movers get all our stuff moved into storage we've got a reservation at a local hotel, and plans are to go have dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, take in a movie, and get a good night's sleep before we drive away Saturday morning. Lily will be camping at her vet's office for the next few days so she doesn't get smushed or lost in the moving process. Lily is not invited to our celebratory evening.

We're going to miss our Texas family so much - I'm just not thinking about that right now. I'm reminding myself that when I'm tired or stressed I tend to be more teary-eyed, and just keep moving. Literally.

When I think about not seeing these sweet faces I love so much, I remember I've got ten faces up there that I hold so dear. We haven't seen them in awhile either, and I know fall and winter will be wonderful. I'm already starting to yearn for baking pumpkin bread, chili, starting to knit a sweater, a little bit of quilting, time spent at the local library in front of the fire, snowy morning walks with Lily, football games where we're all yelling for our different teams, Sunday mornings at church together while we listen to our SIL preach. Life is so full, and I have to hold my hand open, let go of what's already in it for awhile, to hold what's ahead. I know that. Now I just have to do it.

This will be my 33rd or 34th move. With CS it will be #9 in a little over 35 years, and I'd like that average to slow down. I'd like to stay put. That many moves does tend to make a person say goodbye, maybe more easily, than I even should, at least to bricks and mortar and stuff. Faces I know and love is always harder - reason rarely wins over when we're down to that last hug.

Enough mushy stuff and dwelling on the hard that lies ahead. It's time to go sign papers, grab some boxes and tape and finish this thing. I won't be here for a good two weeks, depending on how long it takes to make the trip, unload the van, and get re-settled up north. But I'll be back when life finds its rhythm again.