Home Sweet Home

Even with a much-needed snow day, this weekend was anything but restful. Saturday was our moving day, and of course there were several inches of slushy snow covering the ground. But, knowing we had to be out by the 1st, we braved the storm of moving. Saturday morning we began the much-dreaded day with a nice breakfast at Stoby's. After that, my mom, Cale and I went to the grocery store. The trip was a success (aka, no crying baby) up until the very end. As we were standing in line to check out, I looked down and noticed a puddle beneath our shopping cart. The puddle wasn't beneath the entire cart, just under the spot where Cale was sitting. At that moment, I was pretty sure I knew. But, I continued to say a prayer that the puddle was simply melting snow from another customer's shoes. I reluctantly felt of Cale's pants, and of course they were sopping wet. I quickly glanced back over my shoulder, and to my horror there were about three other customers behind me. I'm sure they watched as the pee fell from my child to the floor, probably shaking their heads with disapproval! So, I stood there wondering what I should do. I headed to the bathroom to find some paper towels, because I couldn't, in good conscious, leave the puddle on the floor, disguised as melted snow. (Well, in good conscious, and the fact that everyone behind me knew the truth) Luckily, I found a custodian and told them that there was "liquid" on the floor that needed to be mopped up. Hey, it was liquid. After my embarrassing moment, I sent Cale off with my mom and headed to our house (well, no longer ours as of today) and continued the torture of moving. Moving is never fun, but the messy snow only added to the pain. Try opening your trunk when it's covered in several inches of snow. I don't know what I thought would happen, but a trunk full of snow and ice was not what I had planned. During the day, I got a call from Carl asking me about towels. On one of the trips to the storage building, our couch and Cale's rocking chair had become covered in snow. Sludge, actually. Brown, yucky sludge. I wasn't in a place where I could go and resuce my couch. So, I let the men handle it. The bad thing is the couch is on its side near the back of the storage building so I guess I won't find out the damage until April or May. Good, the dirt will be nice and settled in by then. Mens' definition of "cleaning" is wiping something down with a towel. My definition is getting a bucket of water, some Resolve, and a brush, putting some elbow grease into it and scrubbing. Oh well, it's only a couch, right? *sob*

Six hours later, and an almost empty, muddy-footprint filled house, I drove 20 minutes to our new home, exhausted. Our new home is with my parents in the community of Caglesville. I unpacked some boxes, hung up the endless amount of clothes, that I didn't realize I had until we moved. It's funny how I have a closet full of nothing to wear. The next morning after church, we continued the teeth-pulling process of moving, lifting, and cleaning. Finally, after we finished we headed home, anticipating a shower and time with Cale. (This weekend was the least time I have ever spent with him) What we found when we got home is that Carl's dog, Cash, his companion since his bachelor days, was gone. Cash had never lived in an area where he could roam free and we had been afraid he would do something crazy. I had dreaded the moment something happened to Cash. My poor husband was so depressed. He was speechless (which is something for Carl) I know he was replaying it in his mind, regretting, thinking about things he could've done differently. Then, my Dad aka, Super Dad, drove around for an hour, knocking on door after door, until he saved the day. Cash, being the ladies man that he is, had simply followed the scent of an attractive female in heat (he's been without a companion for quite some time, if you know what I mean) All I can say is, thanks Dad. You saved our family from a few days...weeks...who am I kidding, probably years worth of sadness and mourning.

It was a long weekend; a hard weekend; a weekend of no rest or fun; a weekend of countless trips to Caglesville and back; a weekend of muddy footprints; a weekend of driving 40 miles an hour in fear of hitting an ice patch; A weekend of frozen, soggy feet; a weekend of pee puddles and lost dogs. But, we're officially moved. We're comfortable. We're enjoying Mom's cooking. We're one step closer to our new house on Crow Mountain. So I would say life is pretty good.